


These Hands of Mine

by Sapphire_Ruby



Series: These Hands of Mine [1]
Category: jacksepticeye
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Mental Anguish, Perserverance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:47:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 42
Words: 90,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21732475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphire_Ruby/pseuds/Sapphire_Ruby
Summary: Jackie hands don't work right, his leg was broken too, and he nearly got killed of all things! And on top of his physical injuries, he's lost his powers too. However, it's nearly impossible to tell anyone, because, he's been a superhero for so long, how will his family accept him as just a normal person?This story is about the aftermath of all this. Reckoning with self-identity, figuring out what he actually wants in life. All of this while being haunted by a masked demon.((contains perspective from brothers: Henrik, Chase, and Jameson)**rated Mature for the following reasons: graphic depictions of violence, discussions of suicide, discussions of trauma, near deadly encounterThis has some heavy themes that may be triggering. I do try and give you warnings at the beginning of each chapter of these triggers.
Series: These Hands of Mine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2166939
Comments: 51
Kudos: 56





	1. Shock to the System

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stupid Jackie, always late coming home from night patrols. Didn't he know that as mad as Schneep was, he was also a little bit worried too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: blood, gore? (describing medical stuff and cuts and tissue underneath the skin)

Schneep didn't enjoy this. The waiting game. Having to assume this role. He'd taught the others some basic medical training, even Jackie. Only made sense if he wasn't around and any of them (though, normally Jackie) were in a bind. Would've been more helpful if some of them weren't so squeamish. But, maybe he'd just grown a tough outer shell so that the trauma didn’t affect him.

It was getting close to 0:30. His patrol should have ended around 22:00, which meant he wouldn't have been back until 22:30. Reckless though he was, any injuries he would’ve had could’ve easily been patched by the others (simple stitches and bags of ice). His super healing had been getting exercised a lot recently too, and was starting to get faster. That's why Schneep allowed himself a couple hours nap. He already had a long shift and needed rest. But now he wasn’t getting any rest, waiting.

No doubt something had happened. It was just a question now of what trouble Jackie had gotten into. Scratches and scrapes weren’t such a major hindrance. And Jackie wasn’t one to lose a fight. Any injuries he did have would be on the worse side for sure. Schneep went into his office, keeping the door open so that he could still hear if the _"hero"_ entered through the front (or if he decided to crash through the window). The doctor kept his hands and mind from being idle by preparing a general tray. Some local anaesthetic, syringes, pads, surgical sutures, forceps, scissors, bandages, antiseptic wash, and gloves. And then another tray with retractors, a scalpel, a suction tube, even more forceps, and some general anaesthetics. Better to prepare it and not need it. Air expanded deep into his lungs and pushed his diaphragm out. Upon release, Henrik let his eyes close for a moment, muttering to himself, “What’d you get yourself into Jackie?”

When he’d finished the small bit of prep, he got himself a glass of water. Started pouring one for Jackie too, but stopped half way. If he needed to treat more than superficial wounds, Jackie couldn’t have any water. Schneep downed the second glass too, then returned back to the couch. 00:47. Longer prep than he would have liked, longer time out than he should’ve be.

With some effort, Schneep grabbed the phone from the receiver and scrolled through the numbers to Jackie’s cell. Pause. A couple seconds. His thumb drifted towards the end button. But then he quickly shifted it to the call button and gradually lifted it to his ear. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. And then that change in pitch. Before any voice could speak, Schneep ended the call. He didn’t need to hear the voicemail box. But was he really expecting any different? Another long sigh. “Don’t go spinning your head off. You know how to deal with these things... Whatever happens.” Schneep sat back into the couch, letting himself feel the polyester through his clothes. He started rubbing the arm rest absentmindedly, just staring ahead blankly, waiting.

Finally, the door creaked open as the entrant pushed his way inside. Schneep moved from his chair to help him inside. Jackie was leaning on the door, far too much, like it was the only thing keeping him from collapsing onto the floor.  Wrapping Jackie's arm around his shoulder and placing a sturdy hand on his chest, Schneep swayed Jackie inside the house. Schneep pushed the door closed with his foot before directing the pair of them to his office.

Red. That was a smart outfit choice on Jackie’s part. Hide any blood that may leak out. But Henrik could smell the stench of it on him. Start to see the stains on it too. More mahagoney than crimson, more oxidized. Drier. “Thanks, doc.”

“Yeah, you gonna help me walk you to the office or what?” Schneep felt the burden of his brother's weight. He stole a glance down at the hero’s legs. One of them was more limp, improper anatomy. “Never mind.” Shuffling so that more of Jackie was slumped onto Schneep, he carried his brother the rest of the way.

Placing him onto the make-shift patient table, Schneep started his procedure. While donning gloves, he plainly asked, “You got any foreign protrusions?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Ok. Then take off your costume. Let me know where you feel pain.” Schneep turned around, waiting.

“Actually... I’m gonna need help getting it off.” Jackie was looking down, but not away from Henrik. Head down in shame. It really was a mess, wasn’t it.

Jackie turned to his side, exposing the zipper in the back enough that Schneep could reach it. Although it would have been easier to simply cut the fabric away, Jackie had done some machining to reinforce it. More like armour than simple fabric. Easier to pry away than to cut, unfortunately. Once the zipper was fully down, Schneep carefully peeled the material away from each arm, revealing the damage underneath. Next, down off the torso. “I’m gonna need you to lift yourself up a bit so I can get this off.” Jackie slowly shifted his weight from one side to the other, just enough to lift half his body at one time. Eventually, Schneep shimmied the material off, exposing the last bit of the trauma. “Do I need to remove your underwear too?” Schneep’s voice was lifeless, not acknowledging the awkwardness that should have been there.

“No, I’m fine there.” Schneep nodded, standing up and giving Jackie a once over. There were purple, yellow, and red splotches scattered about. Lacerations and stab wounds. Strange, Schneep hadn’t seen that many holes in the suit. Bulges and depressions in his skin. Jackie coughed, shaking his ravaged body. Then Schneep saw the shreds of his hands. Three damaged extremities. “Pretty bad, right doc?”

“I’ve seen men live through worse.” Maybe more acute injuries, but it’s what he would always say to give the patient more hope. Worse was a relative term that had lost its meaning for Schneep a long time ago. “I’m going to need to set some of your bones.” The doctor walked over to get a leather belt that was hanging up for this very purpose. “Bite down on this.” Schneep folded it to three layers, Jackie’s usual stacking and placed it between his teeth. Jackie gave a small nod to him.

Schneep focused his attention first on the broken leg bone. It was protruding slightly from the bulge, where the break was. No warnings beforehand, just shoving the bone back into its right place. Quick and dirty. Noises could be heard from Jackie’s mouth, but Schneep did his best to ignore them. Taking one of the rolls and some wood splints from the bottom cabinet, Schneep bandaged the lower leg, trying to expedite the healing. At least there weren’t any cuts on the leg in addition. “You’re going to need to use a crutch for a little while. Non-load bearing, got it?” There wasn’t any need to look up for a response. Schneep knew Jackie would have made his mind up anyway, without his recommendation. No changing it, no matter the consequences that would follow.

Next was a small break in his arm. Wasn’t as pronounced as the leg fracture. “One...” Twist. Crack. It would be fine in a couple of hours, but another wrapping and splint. His shoulder was dislocated too. Quick pop back in. There was bruising on his abdomen as well. Probably some rib fractures. The real concern there was if he punctured a lung. There weren’t any other large visible fractures at least. Removing the belt, Schneep started his questioning. “You having any trouble breathing?”

“No more than usual.” Jackie coughed again, luckily able to cover his mouth with the side of his arm. Small bits of fresh blood speckled the spot. “It’s getting better on its own.” More monitoring. No doubt it would fix itself, but just in case.

Moving on, Schneep started dampening his pads with a mix of antiseptic and topical anaesthetic to clean the various cuts. It would sting, of course, but it was necessary. “You get shot tonight?” It was just a routine question. He didn’t see any entry wound, but maybe it healed over already. Though, it didn’t seem like Jackie was healing as fast as he should have been; still had small cuts on his body that weren’t even close to being healed yet.

“No.” Schneep picked up one forearm to try and clean the hand. It looked like it had been burned and the skin torn up and the tissues underneath dug into. Nerves had to be exposed, but maybe his body was still in shock. Otherwise, Jackie should have been writhing in agony. But, Schneep proceeded to try and clean the areas around it. Maybe he could save this mangled thing, if it could regrow tissues.

Once all the areas were cleaned, Schneep switched to his syringes. “Just some more anaesthetic.” Jackie was silent as Schneep plunged the needle into the areas around the larger cuts. At least he wasn’t flinching. After a few minutes had passed, and the areas should have been sufficiently numbed, Schneep started to sew up the wounds. Stitch, stitch, stitch, stitch. Quiet. Deathly quiet. Not even idle musings from Jackie. Stitch, stitch, stitch. His skin wasn’t healing itself over once pulled together. Something was going on with his powers.

There were six large gashes on his torso alone. Even though Schneep's stitches were spaced to save time, it still took longer than he’d hoped. The slashes on the arms weren’t as long, luckily, but he needed to finish suturing before Jackie’s body burned through the drugs. Always a race against time.

Damage control was mostly done. All that was left was to bandage the torso, dress the cuts, and deal with his hands. Some quick, haphazard dressings, and then he started the closer examination of the hands. It looked like there were some small places where the bones were cracked. There were missing chunks of muscle. There was skin on his underside, but it was essentially gone on the top portion. It looked like a hand dug into him and pulled back, taking anything it could with it. Whatever had done this, Schneep couldn’t repair what was no longer there, build tissue from nothing. All he could do was wrap each digit individually and then the entire hand. Conceal it from getting infected and pray some regeneration took place. Maybe once Jackie had had some time to recover, he could do a skin graft from somewhere else.

Schneep’s breaths were long and drawn as he started wrapping the tissue. “You’re quiet,” he mused aloud. Jackie didn’t respond. To the physical or verbal stimuli. “You feel the bandage?” This time, Schneep looked up for a response. There were water streaks on Jackie's face, and his head shaking no. Schneep went back to his work on the one hand. Nerve grafts. That was the solution he knew. If feeling didn’t return, that was the next step. There wasn’t much hope of feeling returning though. But Jackie didn’t need to hear that.

“I fucked up Henrik.” Schneep kept quiet. “You’re mad, aren't you?” His fingers paused.

“Of course I am.” Nothing productive in lying about that. “But you are back here, alive.” Late, and battered, and broken. But alive. Recklessly alive. Sometimes Schneep wished he would stop being a vigilante. He didn’t have the proper training and was skating by on the fact that he had powers and a brother who knew how to handle injuries. The others would throw a fit if he just left Jackie in pain to teach him a lesson. Pain was the only way to sear lessons into the brain though. Schneep was always aware of that.

“I’m finished for now. Get some sleep. I’ll check back in a few hours.” He lifted the hero’s legs onto the table and grabbed a pillow to rest his head on. Leaving the room, he flicked the lights off instinctually. Over to the couch, he laid down himself. Lights were still on in the house, but that was fine. The light would wake him in a couple of hours, even through the fatigue he felt.

His mind wandered dangerously around Jackie’s injuries. What happened to him? Why wasn’t he back sooner? How did those injuries penetrate his suit with completely tearing it to shreds? Why was he so silent? Would he finally realize the consequence of his actions? Would his hands ever work right? “Don’t let your head go spinning off,” Henrik told himself. “Focus on something else...” Schneep clutched the pillow to his head. “He’s alive.” A small whisper as he closed his eyes. A floodgate of memories bombarded the conscious mind. Distressing, triggering. Numbing. But they would give him a focus point. And would let him sleep. Only a few hours. Then back to his brother. The shock would make it easier for him to treat the injuries. And deal with the tragedy that was inevitable.


	2. Interference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackie’s side of what happened this time. Or rather, who happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: blood, gore (describing fighting and related injuries)

Brick walls. The cement cracks and the weeds growing in them. Paint chipping and spray paintings. Glows from the windows and overhead lights. The sirens off in the distant. The pulse of the city was as prevalent to Jackie as his own, pumping life through his veins and letting him do his work. Tonight, it was weaker than normal. Disturbances within it. Skips and off-rhythm movements. A different energy about it that made his own skin crawl.

The hero hadn’t encountered many situations tonight. Not for lack of trying either. Flights around the streets, down alleyways, faster than normal to try and cover more ground. A couple of scuffles, some minor tears in his suit from some knives. Some escort missions. Jackie thought about extending his patrol time to get some more work in.

Chills down his spine as he was flying. Not a wind. Something of a cold spot. Circling around, he scanned for a source. His eyes didn’t register anything, but he could feel a growing presence. A small landing on the sidewalk. An alleyway with a dumpster in it. There was a small trail of smoke from further back. But every step towards it was trickier, his entire body becoming numb. Trap or not, he had a duty to help and to stop crime.

It was coming from a small pile of trash bags, towards the back end of the building. Moonlight was enough to see, but details were hidden from view until he got within a few feet. Bags weren’t smoldering. There was a person on top of them. No fire or embers on him. Eye sockets burnt out. A slit with dried blood on his neck. A large hole burned through his abdomen. The edges of the hole and his fingertips were the things emitting smoke. It wasn’t just smoke though. Looked like a mixture of fire and smoke, jet black, a void against shadows. And it radiated... a signature. Frigid. Suffering. Malice. 

“Oh my.” Jackie couldn’t pinpoint the voice’s owner. Sound seemed to be coming at him from every possible angle. “You’ll do _quite_ nicely.” A deep green swarm appeared on the other side of the body. A column starting from the ground and spiraling upwards. Mere seconds, and then it dissipated. Leaving only one thing: a man. A dazzling purple cape secured at the neck floated down behind him. There was a mask on his face, a white cat mask, decorated with patterns he couldn’t make out. It looked like he was a performer of sorts. But this wasn’t a show.

“Who are you?!” Jackie shifted his foot back, pulling his arms beside himself and crouching sightly. His palms started tingling, but he clenched them to try and contain himself.

“You’ll see soon enough.” The man pounced, and Jackie launched himself, sending the two flying, with Jackie winning out. He slammed the cat into the ground, kneeling beside this magician, hand pressing on the rib cage. Jackie had to be careful how much pressure he used though. Strength was ...

“You hesitate.” A hand slashed upwards, catching Jackie’s arm. The hero felt his flesh ripped open and cuts deep down into his muscle. The arm recoiled by itself, freeing the fiend. Jackie looked at his arm to see the damage done, but there was nothing. No tear, no scratch. Yet, he could feel blood start to leak out. Eyes focused onto the standing man. Or, thing. “And yet...” It lifted a finger towards its mouth. Jackie could see blood drip from the claw onto its lips. “...so strong.”

In a flash, Jackie rushed in. Gash. Nails digging into his abdomen, stopping him dead. He threw his good arm into the cat’s shoulder. Pound, and the clasp of a hand. Smash. Pain. Ground, sky, mask. That grin. A drop fell into his eye. It wouldn’t be that easy.

Brace against the ground. Kick back, with full force. Into that stupid grin. Complete the circle and get back on two feet. Knees bent, arms ready, fists tight. It was bent over, mask cracked and on the pavement, face hidden behind hands. But then it started laughing, and the sound reverberated and bounced. Coming from all sides. It looked up, letting its shield down. One eye a soulless void. The other, a green flash. Jackie's heart bounded in his chest.

Another flash. Purple across his side. Spun around, and not a trace. Back again, around his shoulder, spinning around and around. Disorienting. Crash. _Focus on the pavement in front of your face._ Dust in one eye, blood in the other. Flecks of pavement breathed in. Try to push against and stand. Immobility. Arms stuck. Legs fixed. Back pressed down. One point of pressure kneeing his spinal column. “Submit.” Jackie's torso was pushed further down into the cement. Bones cracking. A couple ribs into the lungs. Shifting of what had to be vertebrae too. He couldn’t lose. Wouldn’t falter.

Small movements to try and get himself in a better position. “Submit.” Halted. Claws on top of his hands. Palms pressing his hands down further. A shoe digging into his leg. His family. He needed to get back to them.

Strength. Power he’d cultivated. Right hand reached out. Everything screamed out. The claws burrowed deep into his own hand, peeling back his tissue and leaving devastation as he finally got a limb free. His jaw felt like it would break his teeth, just trying to keep the strain to himself. Blood rushed to his head, making him want to scream, puke, give in. Left hand. Fatigued, and slower. He bit his tongue to keep from crying out in sheer agony.

“Submit!!” A weight crashed down onto his leg, and the bone shattered within.

Without thought, he cried. “NO!” Crushed, and barely conscious, he pulled his leg from underneath, scraping it along the broken pavement and suredly giving himself more scars. Blood started filling his mouth, his head started spinning, vision flashing. Fight. He had to fight. Telling his limbs to muster anything left and toss this villain aside. All he felt was his arms barely leaving the ground before his lids closed and sight went dark. 


	3. Prodigieux Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackie may not be dead, but he sure does feel like it and– shit, what’s even happened to him? What time was it? Why was this his job?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: blood, pain

Air. He needed air. It felt like something was sitting– clogging his airway. Coughing forced it to loosen. His cheek felt something hard, and jagged.

. . . Right.

Everything was kinda numb. Good. Focus, he was facing... structures. Raising his head up slightly, he tried to see more of his surroundings. He was careful not to turn his head though, trying to stave off using more muscles than necessary.

Moonlight. Asphalt with cracks in it. A chain-link fence. Brick wall behind that. This was familiar. Same as before. Still on the pavement, indented around him. Back down onto the ground to rest his head. Something different... Jackie strained his eyes to look around, a full rotation. Everything, he could see all around, in his peripheral. !! – It wasn't there. His mask. Gone. When did...

!!... What time was it?! He must have passed out. But why didn’t that villain kill him? Kidnap him. Do something. He wasn’t paralyzed — was he? It felt like he could sense his arms & legs, still control them, but he hadn’t tried to move them. Didn’t want to move anything, feel pain...

And yet, he had to. It had to be well past check-in. His family was undoubtedly worried. Maybe they were all asleep. Maybe he could just sneak in and not cause too much of a fuss. If he could just– 

Cracks. Unstable. Cutting. The piercing pricks he felt when even trying to start to move his arm. Just sliding it across the ground, not putting any loads on it. Much worse than he’d imagined. Muscle fibers still torn. Nerves still exposed. It didn’t feel like he was in shambles though. Maybe his suit was actually holding him together. Jackie felt a shiver descend through him. Shaking it out... trembling, in most places: right leg, and hands. Another cough, and his hand decided to try and cover his mouth. Darker. It was wet, and darker. Of course blood. Trying to take a deep breath, and a coughing fit. His chest was sore and stabbing. Yep. Broken ribs sticking him. Shallow breaths then.

Stand. He needed to get on his feet if he had any chance of flying home. One forearm planted down in front of him. Lifting his head, and then the other arm underneath him. Pushing, he managed his torso up a few meager inches. Next, his legs. His left didn’t seem injured, so it would have to support his body. No doubt the other was crushed when he was pinned down.

Recoil the left up to his chest. At least he was still flexible, hip undamaged. Grip. Toes flexing as best they could so that he had some foothold. Pressing all three major points of contact, but mostly using his left foot. The pressure of his entire being was felt in his left knee as it straightened. The right got dragged along as his body slowly rose up. It was a balancing act to keep himself from toppling over, trying to stay focused on what mattered. Finalmente, he could say that he was standing. Unstable equilibrium, but he was at the top at least.

Home. His mind made the fastest route; a direct flight wouldn’t be more than a few minutes. Telling his legs to lift, he tried to take off. Tingling, there was tingling, but not the usual pre-flight. It wasn’t lightness, it was weight. Blood was flowing down and back up like normal again, slowly relieving him of his relief. There was a sharp contrast he started to feel — hot on cold, smooth on rough, movement. His suit was keeping his body intact. Hopefully his intestines were still on the inside despite that. Looking down, he tried to see how badly the blood was leaking from his body. Too dark. Ambient light only allowed for a vague idea of surroundings and in-your-face details. Maybe he could check under a street lamp.

No. Leave that for Henrik. If he didn’t think he was bleeding to death, he wouldn’t. Power over pain. Focus on something else besides the pain and it wouldn’t be there. Further down were his legs. They didn’t have the same feelings. The left may have held all the burden, but it felt an ache all the way down. Throbbing in his right went down to the knee, then changed into something else. That villian probably hit some nerves or muscles and tore a chunk out. Jackie sighed at the proposition, then affirmed he had punctured something when he coughed up more blood by breathing too deeply.

Right. Beate– Battered, and critically injured, he needed to get back. No flying apparently. Roads. It would be longer, but there was a path there. Jackie could see the turns, and the tim– focus on the streets. One long stretch at a time. Turns. Limply, he shuffled his way out of the alley, past the corpse that had started this whole mess. Out onto an actual sidewalk pavement. His right side couldn’t exactly take all the pressure from walking. Shuffle hops. Left down, right up. Right down, shift left forward as quickly as possible. Jackie didn’t trust that an actual hop would end with any net positive. No way he could keep his balance hopping either, using only his left. And doing a limping-hop — putting weight on his right for a split-second to move his left forward (how he normally limped) — might cause him to crash right there.

Quiet. The city was asleep. No doubt it was early morning already. It got colder. It didn’t help that his cuts were still open, covering him in a sticky liquid that lowered his temperature even more. Despite the chill, it felt like there was a fire under his face. Never a good sign. Fever, fatigue, blood loss. Salty tears started leaking from his eyes.

...

...

Stars. They were his only company. No moon tonight.

...

...

A dark abyss. With just small scatterings speckling it.

...

...

His head was focused up towards the sky in front of him, with just enough peripheral to tell where he was going. Never really got this kind of view when flying.

...

...

His mind drifted to thinking about astrophysics, something Jameson was studying.

...

...

Expanding into star systems, nebulae, galaxies. Star dust...

...

...

It was all just going on, without him...

...

...

Everything here was so small...

...

...

His mind grew weary, cloudy. Too much and too little all at once. Thoughts but none. Blood loss, or shock.. or both, were catching up to him. The world was freezing him.

...

...

He was so small. Insignificant.

...

...

Why?

...

...

Just... .... why.

...

...

...

God he was such a fucking idiot..

What was he even doing?

...

...

He’d thought for a minute... he was dead. That was it.

Left in a back alleyway to be found the next morning

...

...

Jackie’s heart was beating faster. It felt like it was forming a hole in his chest. Working overtime to compensate for his mistakes.

...

...

Was he just destined to die like this?

...

..

Crimson copper painted the inside of his mouth. It was familiar. Just swallow it down like a pill.

...

....

...

Alone.

...

.

.

.

.

Trees. It wouldn’t be long now. Jackie finally tore his eyes from the sky and down to the road he was walking down. Crickets. He never had a pet. They did as a child, but not now. Could he even be responsible enough for a life when he barely had his own together?

The door. Jackie slowly raised his hand to start keying in the code. That’s when he finally had to see his hands. Even though his suit was intact, he could see the deformities and dips. Cold. He could  _ feel _ that they were cold. But even when he drifted one of his fingers onto a key, he couldn’t feel it. Only his eyes and the pressure he felt in his elbow let him know that his hand was even touching something. Tears pricked at his skin and his lungs felt like they were collapsing again. His hands... No– they couldn’t be gone.

Concentrating, Jackie maneuvered his limp digit so that it was in the right spot, using his wrist and arm, he tried (and successfully) applied enough pressure for a little green light to flash. Five more times, and then the long light signaling he had done it correctly.

Switching tactics, Jackie positioned his right hand on top of the knob, using his wrist to get some grip. Trying his best to keep his arm straight and hand on the knob, he pushed down while pushing in on the door. By some miracle, there was a small budge. Leaning into it, he shoved it open more, but not that much. Exhaustion was starting to catch up with him. One foot in the door, and he felt like another step would send him crashing down onto the floor.

That never happened. Another warm body caught him. Fluttering his eyes to adjust to the lights, he looked up to see which brother was his saviour. Henrik. Jackie was trying to come up with what to say while the doctor dragged him inside, an arm draped around Henrik’s shoulder to keep him on two feet. “Thanks, doc.”

“Yeah, you gonna help me walk you to the office or what?” Of course he would. His brain started trying to stand him up tall to be able to limp around the house. “Never mind.” Henrik shifted his body so that Jackie’s chest was resting on Henrik's right shoulder. Then the doctor stood up straight, and Jackie’s toes were barely touching the ground. Not the most sophisticated army carry, but it wasn’t that far to the home office.

He was carefully put down on the exam table. The lights were even brighter, shining on his broken body. “You got any foreign protrusions?”

Jackie gave himself a quick once over, not focusing on anything really. Still intact suit, bloody suit. “Don’t think so.”

“Ok. Then take off your costume. Let me know where you feel pain.” Pain, that was everywhere. Generally numb too, kind of a dual signal. He couldn’t take his suit off though. Not with his hands.... Didn’t want to take it off and see what happened. He could take blood, and cuts, and broken bones, but this... Something far more sinister was going on, and it left a darkness that made his insides quiver. Looking down at his damaged hands, he admitted quietly, “Actually... I’m gonna need help getting it off.”

Henrik, he was so nice. Came over without any remarks or reprimandings. Jackie turned as best he could so his brother could access the zipper. First out were his arms. Left, then right. The two worked jointly on each limb: Henrik rolling down the sleeves and giving Jackie the clearance to move, Jackie trying his best to work with only his shoulder and elbow to move his dead hand. The other side went a bit smoother. Jackie was looking at Henrik the entire time, trying to gauge his reactions. Stone face, as always.

“I’m gonna need you to lift yourself up a bit so I can get the legs off.” Jackie rocked himself as far left as he could, trying his best to balance on just his left hip. It seemed to be enough. At least the left leg was easier to remove. “Do I need to remove your underwear too?”

“No, I’m fine there.” Rather, he hadn’t been hit there. Probably the one area that didn’t look like a horror show. Even when avoiding it, Jackie could still get glimpses. Red on a shallow pale, deep purple bruises, cuts going down more than skin-deep, and the large defects from various brutal injuries. Coughs sputtered through his airway and had him bent over in pain; he tried to make them stop with sheer will, but was forced to ride them out. Once he stopped, he conceded, “Pretty bad, right doc?”

“I’ve seen men live through worse.” Henrik had seen hell on earth during his time as an army doctor. No doubt there was truth in that statement, but it didn’t help Jackie right now. “I’m going to need to set some of your bones.” The doctor walked over to get a leather belt that was hanging up for this very purpose. “Bite down on this.” Three layers, and then Jackie bit down on it, hard. Quick and dirty for trauma; Jackie gave a nod, bracing for the waves of pain that he would experience.

His right leg suddenly had feeling in it again, agony rather. He wanted to cry out, and just ended up crying. Guess his leg was actually broken. “You’re going to need to use a crutch for a little while. Non-load bearing, got it?” Henrik instructed. Maybe this wouldn’t have been so bad if he didn’t walk all the way back on it. If he could have just flown. If he’d just not been– 

Arm. It was in his arm now. Apparently another break. Henrik’s hands sandwiched Jackie’s shoulder, popping it back into place. The doctor took the belt from his patient’s mouth. Looked like that was the end of the broken bones. Well, maybe not the ribs, but the limbs. “You having any trouble breathing?”

“No more than usual.” Jackie coughed again, luckily able to cover his mouth with the side of his arm. He could feel the blood come up. “It’s getting better on its own,” he lied to himself. He didn’t... if he didn’t think he was hurt, he wasn’t that badly hurt.

Henrik moved on to his tray of medical tools. “You get shot tonight?”

“No.” It had been a quiet night. Had been...

The doctor picked up one of Jackie’s hands and started dabbing it with one of his pads, no doubt cleaning it. Jackie didn’t flinch at its touch. Truly, no feeling. And from there...

God he was such an idiot. What was he even sacrificing himself for? Safer city? There weren’t any supervillains, just petty crimes. Friendly neighbourhood spiderman? And what was that getting him? Nothing. No commendations, no less crime, just more work and more sacrifice. He could have been helping Chase out, but no, he had to make sure that no one was being killed, never mind the fact that his own brother was drowning. Had to try and stop a robbery while robbing himself of time with the only other person who could understand him. Being a voice for those who didn’t have one when he didn’t even talk with his own silent brother. Preventing more trauma from happening when he couldn’t protect his family from their own trauma. He made a difference, small, but there. But was it even worth it to him anymore? He nearly didn’t come back this time. Would never have gotten the chance to hug his family or tell them he loves and appreciates each and every one of them.

As broken as his body was, that couldn’t compare to the turmoil he felt in his mind. It was enough to make him break. “I fucked up Henrik,” he managed to piece together. Glancing at his brother, Jackie saw that Henrik was working on the broken hands again, bandaging their remains together. Even though Henrik looked calm, Jackie could feel the rage emanating from him. “You’re mad, aren’t you?”

There was a pause. “Of course I am.” Henrik was louder, but not quiet yelling. Another pause, and a deep breath. “But... you are back here, alive.” He left it at that and resumed his work. Scanning the rest of his body, it looked like Henrik had already finished his other work. At least it wouldn’t be long now until he could be left in his own shame. Jackie stared at various parts of the office to keep his mind mildly occupied while his brother wrapped up wrapping.

“I’m finished for now. Get some sleep. I’ll check back in a few hours.” He moved Jackie’s legs onto the table and gave the hero a pillow to rest his head. As he left, the doctor flicked the lights off. Jackie heard the door click shut and was left in the silence of it. Even with exhaustion deep in his bones, he couldn’t sleep. Was afraid of it too... afraid he wouldn’t wake up again. Be taken away, away from his family again. Fall into a coma. Waking nightmares.

Laying awake, looking but not seeing the ceiling, he felt the darkness engulf him. A voice whispered, “ _ I always get what I want _ .” Jackie thought he saw green flames from the corner of his eye, but when he turned to look, it was just dark. The house was warm, but he’d never felt so cold. Feeling the weight of it, Jackie turned onto his side, facing the wall, and cried himself to sleep. Defeated. Waiting for the final blow, to fall into an abyss.


	4. Morning, Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story isn’t just about Jackie, there are other people too. Suffering in their own silence. Everyone is working on recovery, even if no one else sees it.

Consciousness returned dramatically. The kind of alertness that you would get if you were suddenly thrown in a life-or-death situation, having to quickly take in your surroundings and everything feels awake and amplified. Only, this alertness didn’t have that characteristic rush of adrenaline, luckily. But Chase did know those kind of moments; they were seared into his brain, but he tried to keep them locked up tight and buried deep.

Popping open his eyes, the room was less dark than he’d left it. That happened when your eyes had hours to adjust to the darkness of night. There weren’t any dramatic bright spots, so it was probably before sunrise. Rolling over, Chase threw his arm over the side of the bed and started lazily rummaging around for the bottle he kept beside his bed. Once he found it, he took a long drink of cold water. The liquid only helped his brain speed up the morning reboot process.  _ The doc was right _ , Chase had to begrudgingly admit to himself. No way he could just lay in bed for hours now — his brain was too fired up and moving to feel like lying down. He may not have had his spunk back yet, but this sure felt like the good old days.

In one swift motion, he threw off the covers, spun himself onto the side of the bed, and stood up. Made him feel like Jackie for a moment. Jackie’s advice wasn’t bad either: fake it ‘til you make it. Though, Chase knew they interpreted it differently. He took it to mean role-playing, since that was the easiest way to have energy when he felt dead inside.

Looking at the clock, Chase saw how early it actually was. 7:26. Going to sleep earlier helped too apparently. Today was shaping up to be a good day, so Chase made the decision to cook breakfast for his brothers. And he had to get a move on too; they were all morning people and he’d be lucky if they weren’t all crowding the kitchen by 8.

Let’s see now, they had eggs, bread, pancake mix, coffee beans... No sausage or bacon or potatoes. Oh! Omelets. Henrik was healthy enough to always have some vegetables in the fridge. Omelets and pancakes, and coffee. Maybe he should put the kettle on for Jamie too. Glancing at the stove, Chase scratched that thought – not enough stove space. Microwaved hot water though...

After getting out the eggs, tomato, green pepper, cheese, butter, pancake stuff, and setting two cups of water in the microwave, he started to get breakfast ready. First, two pans on the stove, each with a slice of butter to grease the pan, and two mixing bowls. Next, Chase made the batter for the pancakes. It reminded him of the times he would could breakfast for his kids on Saturday mornings. One of the days he was could goof off without being so heavily chastised for it. Shaking his head  ~~ in a vain attempt to shake out the thought ~~ , he poured the batter into one pan and let it be for a bit. Cracking eggs into his other bowl, he used a fork to whisk them into a yellow bubbly mess. Problem was, they didn’t feel right. “Right!” Chase exclaimed, hand flying into the air at the breakthrough. He got a cup of water and poured a dash of it into the egg mix. Whisking it in, the eggs started to look right again. He smiled in triumph while pouring the mixture into the frying pan, loving the sizzle that came from it.

The pancake seemed ready to flip, but somewhat overdone once Chase saw the cooked side. And no chocolate chips either. “Next one,” he told himself, trying not to feel bad about forgetting. He rummaged the pantry for the chocolate, finally finding a half-eaten bag near the back. Then he had to run back to the eggs that smelled like they were burning. When he was lifting them up to move the liquid onto the bottom, he could see the brown parts. “Lower heeaaaattt,” Chase dragged out, watching the flame die down as he turned the burner knob. He nudged at the pancake with his spatula. Not quite yet. Doing a quick turn around, he started trying to cut the veggies. The green pepper was easy enough to slice and dice, but the tomato was going to be tough, and needed time he didn’t have. Checking back, the pancake was finished off and so was the egg. Rushing for a plate, Chase raced to slide the pancake off the heat onto cool porcelain and to add the pepper and cheese to the egg. He pressed the top down with his spatula and refused to lift pressure until the cheese was fully melted.

It was only after he folded the omelet onto its plate that he remembered that the vegetables needed to be cooked. Face-palming, he went back into the cupboard for a third pan. As low key as this was, breakfast was more stressful than he remembered. But maybe he just had the heat too high on everything and that sped up cooking time. And it had been a bit since he’d done this too; maybe he was just out of practice.

His second round was quicker. This time, he knew what he was doing, and had the correct heat, and all the ingredients. Chocolate chip pancakes and cooked tomato (and pepper) in the omelet. For the third take, he dabbled with higher heat on the pancake, but it was a challenge he felt ready to embrace. After starting a final batch of breakfast for himself (or maybe he would just take the first overcooked batch if this one went well), he took the finished plates over to the dining table in the other room for when his brothers would inevitably waltz down the stairs. But, after moving the first plate, he decided to present them on the kitchen countertop instead; never was sure if he brothers would actually sit down for breakfast. But something looked wrong.... Drinks. ! Coffee!! At least Chase was now comfortable enough to juggle that with the cooking. Once the final breakfast was finished, he started to put all the food back where it belonged.

Hot water, pot a coffee, four breakfasts, and still no one else. Chase made himself busy, heating up the meals that were getting cold, finding syrup and failing to find jelly, getting silverware, starting to clean up his mess and putting pans in the sink, moving the plates over to the dining table again because he wanted at least the notion of a family people. He sat down and waited; it just didn’t feel right to eat without anyone else.

Creaking from the wooden stairs sounded so melodious as his first brother jaunted down. In walked Jameson, perfectly prim and proper, as always. Chase corrected his posture, knowing how much it meant to Jameson. “Hey Jameson!” Chase beamed. He wanted this to be a good day, why not smile? “I made us all breakfast, and there’s hot water in the microwave for your tea.”

_ “Thank you, Chase,” _ Jamie signed, moving to get his tea ready. Chase just sat there for a moment, fighting to keep a smile on his face. Jameson didn’t have the same excited look his kids got when Chase made them breakfast. But, Jameson was a grown man, and the brothers cooking for each other wasn’t that big of a deal at this point. It was a big deal for Chase that  **he** was doing batch cooking, but maybe he was setting his expectations too high.

Jameson filled his mug and took a seat next to Chase.  _ “Shall we wait for the others?” _ Jameson inquired.

“Well, it would be the polite thing to do,” Chase started, darting his eyes over to the staircase, hoping to see or hear someone that wasn’t there, “but who knows when they’ll be down. And I don’t want the food to get colder than it already is.” Hopefully it still had some warmth to it.

_ “I suppose that is a fair point,” _ Jameson agreed.  _ “Let’s eat then.” _ Jameson cut away an edge of the omelet. He then speared the piece of egg and held it up like a trophy, looking over expectantly at Chase. Chase did the same after finally realizing Jameson was waiting on him. Then the two took their first bites. It was somewhat warm, but the cheese wasn’t a gooey melty mess. Needed ketchup. Journeying to the fridge, Chase plucked the half empty bottle from the door and returned to his seat. Maybe the pancake would be better. Lathering it in syrup, Chase cut out a large chunk and put the whole piece in his mouth. Chewier than it should have been, but at least the syrup helped. Maybe water would help. Getting up again, he filled his glass from the tap — trying to keep up his water intake.

The two sat together in silence, eating their mediocre breakfast. It felt kind of uncomfortable, not hearing anything besides the clanging of silverware and the chewing of food. But, trying to keep up his good spirits, Chase used the time to practice mindfulness and just being in the moment. It was interrupted by constant mental reminders to not let himself drift from what was even happening.

Suddenly, there was another set of dragging footsteps breaking the quiet. Henrik walked in from the living room, not from the stairway. Crinkled work clothes, and messed up hair. “Morning doc!” Chase joked, trying to combat his brother’s current state. Henrik did look up slightly and gave Chase a small nod before dropping his head back down and shambling over to the coffee pot. “Late night last night?” Chase asked, more somber. Henrik didn’t even berate Chase for calling him doc. Was Chase, the only true night-owl in the house, the only person today who was enthused about being awake?

“Ehhh...” Henrik trailed off, pouring himself a large cup from the pot. “Thanks for making coffee.” He took a big gulp before pouring himself almost another full mug. Cup in hand, Henrik finally turned around and actually looked at his brothers. He rubbed his eyes for a bit before taking another gulp. “Both of you are up.”

“Yep,” Chase nodded, keeping things short and sweet. Henrik’s eyes drifted a bit and seemed to glaze over. Chase would have told his brother to go back to sleep, but Henrik was a terrible patient, worst of the bunch. Plus, Henrik always had the excuse that he just hadn’t had his coffee yet.

“Oh, thanks Chase.” Guess Henrik finally noticed the other breakfasts. “But I’m already running late so uh, I’ll just take it for lunch.” Chase made sure to keep a smile, or at least neutral pose on his face. Would have been easier if Henrik had just said he didn’t want it.

“Sure.” Better communication was a goal Chase had, just not the one he was working on.

“Oh, and...” Henrik paused to rub his eyes. Maybe today was a three cups of coffee kind of day. “I told Jackie to sleep in today, so he shouldn’t be up for a bit. Probably a good idea to just put his plate in the fridge. With that, Henrik finished off his cup and start rummaging around in the cabinets.

Chase looked down at his plate. A viscous mess of ketchup and syrup was left on the plate. So much for a family meal. Then Chase felt a hand on his back and turned toward Jamie.  _ “It was a good meal,” _ Jamie encouraged, accompanying the words with a smile and a thumbs up. 

That got a small turn of a smile out of Chase. “Thanks Jame,” Chase responded, patting his brother on the shoulder twice before standing up. The cellophane was already out and Henrik was moving for his food. Tearing a piece off of plastic, Chase moved to the remaining plate and wrapped it up with the plastic wrap, sealing the edges before putting it into the fridge to wait.


	5. A Typical Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picks up right after chapter 5. A typical day in the life of Chase Brody, as of recently anyway

“What’s today’s plan?” Henrik asked slowly, making sure to say each syllable properly.

“Well,” Chase moved to clear his and Jameson’s plates, but the dapper chap had already started cleaning up. “I was going to go for a walk this morning. Then head to the library to do some reading. Try and do some work too.” It felt so weird to have a schedule, let alone something that sounded so drab. But, he was practicing accountability, or responsibility, or something of the sorts. And he had been ordered to make sure he leave the house everyday. He would have gone to the gym too for some sort of hard physical work in the mix, but Jackie hadn’t been feeling up to it the past few days. Chase never did like to go without a workout buddy. Walking at least kept him relatively active.

“Good, good,” Henrik mused. “Make sure to eat lunch.”

“Thanks mom,” Chase quipped as Henrik walked out of the kitchen.

Once the stair creaks ceased, Chase wanted to start talking with Jamie, but he didn’t know what to say. “Uh, hey,” that got Jameson’s attention away from the dishes. Chase spoke, keeping the space between his words long and drawn out so he could find a coherent sentence along the way. “Would you want to come with me to the library today?” Good, good. Follow it up. “I just know that we haven’t really gotten to hang out much recently.” Well, ever since the breakdown. But Chase always felt bad anyway. He and Jameson didn’t have that much in common. Even though Jameson tried to get him into music and arts and such, it never really stuck with Chase.

_ “Unfortunately, I do already have plans,” _ Jameson sighed.  _ “But, I do appreciate the invitation.” _

Chase started rubbing the side of his pants, unsure of what to do with his hands. “Cool. Cool cool cool.” His voice drifted off as he slowly slid out of the kitchen. He bounded up the stairs — trying to keep his energy up — put on some random clothes, threw his pajamas onto his bed, and headed out before he could embarrass himself more today. One step outside though, and he had to go back in for a coat.  _ It’s autumn, of course it’s chilly out. Duh, _ he scolded himself.

Walks, good for practicing mindfulness. Practice noticing and observing. Running was exercise and goal-oriented only. Positive affirmations, mental reminders, whatever. It felt like work to basically be on autopilot. But, he still did it. Mindfulness. Breathe in and out. The air was dry today, and a bit chilly too. Could feel it drying out his throat. Maybe it was just the early morning chill though. Hadn’t been this bad the past week. Weather. He needed to start watching the news for the weather again. Big breath in, and a sigh out. A mental note to add to the growing adult list of his. Because adults made lists. Like grocery lists, and to-do lists, and–

Nope. Look at the sky. Clouds. Sidewalk or curb or where he was going. Feet. Chase started looking at his gait pattern. Not quite straight as an arrow. He started playing around with it, shifting weight to different parts of his feet. Looking ahead, see how maybe it would ‘change his view of the world.’ Well, he was more aware of his walking pattern and the actual act of walking. He needed to do some better foot stretches, ankle stretches. All-over stretches really. Maybe he would try and get Jackie to do some stretching with him later tonight. No way his brother could say no to that. Come to think of it, it had been a while since they’d done stuff together. Chase stared ahead, keeping an even pace, trying to let his mind go blank to think back.... A week and a half ago? That couldn’t have been right. But, that’s what was there. He could actually track every day’s activities now. And it  _ had _ been a week and a half. Alright, no excuses this time. He was hanging out with Jackie tonight.

Back to the walk, mindfulness. Chase focused on the physical sensations. The cold he felt on his face. The pushback from the sidewalk (and perhaps the uneven-ness of it). Breathing. In and out. Lungs big, then small. Warmth of the coat. Look at the surroundings because that was something he never did. Try and find something interesting in the small things. Breathe in, breathe out. Fake smile at vaguely pretty stuff to trick the brain into making the happy chemicals. In and out. Pace against the sidewalk. Break routine and pretend the curb is a balance beam. That one actually did trick his brain into seeing stuff differently. Chase would swerve back and forth between the two bits of pavement, sometimes hopping into the road for a stint. Made something fun from the monotony.

And before he knew it, he was back at home. Henrik’s car was already gone, but Jameson’s was still sitting. Once inside, Chase quickly grabbed a pen to write on his forearm “stretch w/ J” in one motion, squishing the J at the very edge of where his wrist became palm. Less likely to rub off during the day and more likely to remember. “Okay, hydrate, then library,” Chase recited to himself. Going back into the kitchen, he grabbed his water bottle from the drying rack and filled it from the tap. A couple sips until he felt good, quick refill, and off he went. Wallet, phone, and keys by the door and into the car. It was a fifteen minute drive, enough to justify turning on the radio. Eighties music, that’s what Chase grew up on. Bowie, Madonna, Springsteen. Classics. Chase even let himself mouth along. Never was much of a singer. And the drive was a cruise all the way there. Fast pace on a slow day. Maybe time would continue to stretch itself out.

The first thing Chase did was grab a pen and sheet of printer paper, then sit down to write. To-do lists, even small, were supposedly helpful (according to Jameson). Chase never did anticipate everything he would do that day, and would constantly add small memos to himself about things, but it did give him a small bit of satisfaction running a line through a completed item. 

Today’s list: finish up the third Lord of the Rings book; eat lunch; project ideas. He tapped the end of the pencil on the list, debating if he should add “look for job” or “research jobs” to the list. Henrik had said it was a bad idea to stress himself out like that at this point. But honestly, not doing anything made Chase just feel guilty. At least the projects gave him something physical he could do — kept his hands and his mind busy. That was something Chase had thought of on his own, and he made sure to give himself a pat on the back for it.

For Jameson, Chase was thinking of a music organizer. Henrik wasn’t that materialistic, but maybe some shelves or picture frames would be nice. And for Jackie, a bookcase. Maybe not for books like Jameson, but for some of his trinkets.

But before Chase could continue planning those, he had to read – “expand your mind” as Jameson would say. He got the book from the shelf and sat down at his usual table. He added a little list to the bottom of his big to-do list, just general reminders of human things (like walking and water) to check every couple of hours. Finally, he set a timer on his phone for two hours and got to reading.

No sooner had he started than his timer started buzzing all about. Even though Chase really wanted to keep ploughing through, he made himself stop. Put the book face down, take a small walk to stretch his legs, get a drink, use the bathroom, check in with his stomach. Maybe stretch out his back for safe measure. Checking his watch, it was already 11. He wasn’t hungry yet, but maybe he would in an hour or two. One more hour of reading, then he’d head out for lunch. Another timer, another dive into that engrossing tale. Once he got to the end of the chapter though, he checked the timer and it still had ten minutes on it. He decided to close the book and leave it for tomorrow, or maybe later today. It was much more confusing for his brain to end in the middle of a chapter. Putting the book back, Chase paused for a moment to look at his list. Read, check. Lunch, preemptive check. Projects... He took a couple pieces of blank paper and then headed out to his car.

Chase drove to the closest burger joint he could think of. The service was fast, and food mediocre, but he still tried to take a break and enjoy his meal. Tried focusing on every flavour his tongue felt. Also made himself eat the side of fries despite not being hungry. Not exactly full, just, not hungry. Henrik had said regular meals would help get the hunger feeling going again, but that still hadn’t happened after three weeks. Chase pulled his phone out and added his meal to his calorie tracker. His goal was to have at least 2000 calories a day, no matter his activity level. He added breakfast too, after forgetting to do it earlier. Barely over half way there. Chase sighed, taking a sip of his water, and subsequently adding that to the app. Needed more water today as well. Maybe he should start carrying a gallon of water just to make himself drink more. Leaning back into the chair, Chase took a big breath in and exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. There was so much to remember to do, and to focus on, and adhere to. “Structure will eventually become habit,” he muttered softly to himself. “Just, one day at a time.” Maybe an accountability partner would be a good thing for him. But, Chase felt horrible at the thought of having to constantly update his brothers on the little mundane things he was accomplishing. He had his checklist, and was working on it, but it was so hard.

After a few minutes of just sitting, Chase pulled out his phone and opened his messaging app to text Henrik. “Update: I ate lunch. Burger, fries, and a pint of water.” As soon as it was sent, Chase turned off the screen and flipped his phone over and sunk his face into his hands. If nothing else, it shut out the world for a few moments and let him try and calm his brain.

Eventually, Chase cleaned up his table and made his way back to the car. He sat behind the driver’s seat and grabbed his list from the passenger seat. Project ideas. Too vague. Taking a pen from the center console, he scribbled underneath “brainstorm” and “finalize details.” Those seemed like reasonable goals. How he just needed a place to think. Not the house, the whole point of this was to not get back into his bad habits. He needed variety. The park crossed his mind, but it was cold and the wind might be an issue. Back to the library he supposed — big open space and maybe a different table could help get the ideas going.

Well, he brought all his past materials in as well as his black paper. What he had were some basic brainstorming maps and a few sketches. Okay, easiest, bookshelf. Jackie was six foot one, so maybe a seven foot tall bookcase. Depth? Maybe eight inches? Chase walked over to a shelf and picked out a random book. Seemed to be maybe six inches deep and... eight inches tall? So maybe seven inch deep shelves. Height? Well, how many shelves? What about one foot including the shelf itself, then maybe seven shelves, one inch boards, eleven inches of space. So, ... 1+11 times 7 plus 1.... seven foot one inch tall then. Okay, two dimensions down. Width. Chase spread out his arm. He was five foot eight, so... smaller than that. Four and a half feet? Plus one inch sides. Okay. Now, wood board measurements. Would the sides screw into the bottom, or the bottom screw into the sides? Backing board first. Seven foot one tall, four feet eight inches wide, one inch deep. Well, maybe he would make it seven feet tall and have the last shelf only be ten inches high. So, one board that was 7’x5’x1” and he’d just cut the excess off the five foot side. And the back would screw into the sides. Sides would be seven inches deep then. What if he cut the two sides from one piece? Wood only came in two inch increments, so he would need 7’x2’x1” and cut two seven inch pieces, or maybe eight if that was better. No, stick with seven for the planning. The bottom and top... it would be better to screw the sides into them. So, four and a half feet long and seven inches wide boards.... Those weren’t fun numbers. And he needed eight of those pieces. A nine foot long board could be two shelves. Boards came in feet, so 7 times 2, 14 inches – just over 1 foot. Times 2, 28, and just over two feet.... What if he had five foot boards though. The back was already five feet wide. Numbers.... 14, 28, 42, 56... 56 was close to 60, which was five feet. So, a 5’x5’x1” would be his eight shelves. Okay. Three large pieces of wood. Got it. Maybe it would have been better to look up an instructional guide instead of doing it using his own head. Hopefully it would work though. Huh. Would work, wood work. That got him to smile to himself.

Next was Henrik. All the brainstorming sheets were just different things to maybe try and get him. Picture frames seemed like the easiest thing. Chase made the decision this time to look up how to build frames. The hardest part for the DIY would be cutting the wood himself at perfect angles. But honestly, Chase couldn’t remember Henrik having any framed pictures in any of his rooms. Made he should just ask Henrik if that was something he would want.

Lastly JJ. Chase’s various papers had looked at building him a bookshelf (but Jameson already had something for that), some sort of bow-tie organizer (which he probably already had a method), and maybe a drawer set. The papers had run with the drawer set, but then it evolved into having a specific purpose of using the drawers for Jameson’s music, which then morphed into making him some sort of filing system. Only problem was, Chase was terrible at organizing. More aptly, creating an organization system.

So back to the internet. And it turned out, there were many ways to organize sheet music: alphabetical, by composer, by genre, by instrument. And what’s more, there were different systems: binders, folders, the sheets could have plastic covers or not, boxes with different slots (and accordion folders apparently), or something like a filing cabinet. Chase was trying to take notes and figure out which would be best, but it started feeling so massive a task. How could something so small be so overwhelming? At one point, he just leaned back in the chair and let out an overwhelmed sigh. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, searching. Looked like the ceiling was curvy metal, like long roofing panels stacked on top of each other.

Closing down the browser, Chase grabbed his things and took a lap around the library. Walk, practice breathing, get a drink, look at the surroundings, try different paths. Look at the list. Well, he researched ideas. Action plan though? Chase started placing in one area, half mumbling, half thinking to himself, referencing his papers every now and again. “Jackie... Shelves... Need the wood, and to cut it... Saw... And nails... Henrik... Just be direct.” Chase paused for a moment and grounded himself. “He won’t be mad if you ask first... It’s okay to ask for help.” Inhale for four, out for six. In for four, out for six. Back to pacing. “Jamie neeeeds organizationnnn... But there are different ways to do it.... Just ask him what he wants to do, ‘cause he’s the one using it.” Chase took in a big breath and exhaled slowly, curving the air with his bottom lip so it passed over his nose. Finding a table, he scribbled down his game plan onto his to-do list and crossed off “Project Ideas.”

He huffed out again. “Okay, everything done.” And not soon enough either. He was starting to feel drained. Maybe he’d play some video games when he got back home. Today had been productive yes, but not completely fun. It had started off that way though. Water, more water. That was the quickest way to try and improve his mood. Didn't help that way, but water was never a bad thing.


	6. Relax, Wind Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picks up right after chapter 6. Chase did what he set out to do today. Not exactly exhausted, but definitely spent, he goes back home to hopefully relax a bit

Chase drove home, again tuning into the radio. Helped him not think. Back at his house, there weren’t any vehicles in the drive. That was fine, his brothers had lives too. After turning the car off, Chase got out and headed into the garage. Power tools would be either there or in the basement. Two small tasks, and then video games. As he was keying in the garage code though, he saw his marker message. Right, stretching. Maybe when Jackie got home they would do that.

Metal ratcheted up slowly to reveal the clutter of the garage which had become more of a storage facility for anything but cars. Oddly enough, Jackie’s bike was parked right along the outer edge. Did he need to repair it? Chase tucked the thought away for now and went about searching for the tools. Most things were haphazardly placed on shelves. But, there was eventually a toolbox, tool bag, and a folded cutting table! Indiscriminately sorting through the bag, Chase finally found a saw. Yeah! Cutting tools! So now all he needed was wood. But he could add that to his list tomorrow.

Locking his car and hitting the garage button, Chase finally stepped back into the house. Flopping down onto the couch, he absent-mindedly took out his phone and looked at the time. Three PM. His breath hitched as it sunk in both how much and how little time he’d spent out. “No, no,” he extended his arms straight out in front as if steadying himself. “It’s fine. You’re fine.” Returning to his phone, Chase noticed there was one new message from Henrik _“Good job!”_ and the regular notifications from all his apps that he lazily swiped away without processing them. _I should just turn those off_ , he thought. Two minutes. Quick in and out of settings and bam, most social media notifications were gone. It would have been easier to just have his phone on do not disturb, or silent, or off, but Chase knew that was a bad idea, even without his brothers explicitly stating it. They already worried enough about him, didn’t need to panic them by not responding to messages too. But, he’d already missed Henrik’s message, so guess he was already missing them.

Sighing, Chase tapped the message icon and scrolled down to Jameson’s name. _“Got a project I wanna do for you. I wanna organize your music so you don’t have to just use that cardboard box. But, I don’t know how you like to organize it.”_ Chase paused and let his thumbs hover over the keyboard for a couple seconds before pressing send. Regret filled his stomach as soon as he sent the words, but this was the best way to move forward. No sense working on something his brother wouldn’t even use.

Backing out into reality, Chase casually scanned around the television for the various equipment he needed to setup a console. The sharpie on his arm caught the corner of his eye again. Jackie! His bike was here, so maybe he was still home! Couldn’t hurt to try. Bounding up the stairs, Chase felt a new burst of energy hit him. Just the thought of spending time with Jackie invigorated him. _Socializing, right. Good_.

Coming up on Jackie’s door, Chase started to think of what to say, but his hand knocked before he could formulate a thought. Well, spitball words then. “Hey Jackie?” There wasn’t a response. “Jaaackiiiiie?” Maybe he was out. But looking at the crack between door and floor, Chase saw light streaming from inside. “I know you’re in there.” Oh god, now he was reminded of Frozen and Anna wanting to play with Elsa. That only spurred him on though. “I’m coming in, whether you like it or not.” Still nothing. Hopefully Jackie had just left his light on by accident, or was sleeping and not just ignoring him. Or worse, locking himself away. Even when Chase was depressed and not allowed to lock his door, he would still futilely yell at his brothers to leave him alone. Silence, . . .

With that weight in mind, Chase slowly opened the unlocked door, preparing himself for a bad situation. But, nothing looked out of place. Same room, same messy floor, mad crime connection board, cluttered desk. And turning the corner, Chase saw Jackie just lying in bed. Stepping in, Chase kept his gaze fixed on Jackie. The urge to say something was whirring inside of him, but there was a stiffness in the air that kept his mouth glued shut. Pulling the chair from the desk, Chase propped himself up besides Jackie’s bed. The hero had turned to face the wall, sheets pulled over his head as if he were hiding. There was a plate and a glass of water on the bedside table along with a note Henrik had scrawled. _“Take these.”_ Chase didn’t mean to, but he saw what the pills were. Vicodin. Hard to miss when the word was inscribed on the pill. “You get roughed up last night, is that it?” Jackie’s legs shifted under the covers. “Some broken bones I’m guessing.” The sheets got tighter around Jackie as he curled himself into a ball. “Come on, you can’t pretend you don’t get injured, even with that super healing thing you got going on.” Chase started to peel away the sheet from his brother, but was promptly halted as Jackie moved away from him. A muffled squeak escaped from the mess of cloth. It was a sound that reminded Chase of Adrianna. Whenever she would get hurt, she would let out a tiny yelp. Jackie didn’t do that though. For better or for worse, he and his brothers were used to biting their tongues when they were in pain.

Chase felt his body start tightening random muscles, scrunching in on himself a bit. _Jackie_ was in pain. _Superhero Jackie_ , always fighting through anything and saving people with a smile, was in enough pain to make himself squeak. “Jackie...” Dad instincts kicked in, and Chase wouldn’t just leave Jackie to suffer alone. “Come on, let me help you.” He put a hand on Jackie’s shoulder to try and comfort him, but Jackie spun around and slapped Chase’s hand off. Face exposed, Chase got a better understanding. Dark circles, greasy hair. Cloudy grey eyes staring right through him. Lips parted and trembling, like they had so much to say and no means of expressing any of it.

Eventually, Jackie laid his covered hand down on the bed, slightly overlapping with Chase’s, averting his gaze to their hands and closing his mouth to the silence. Through the thin sheet, Chase could feel that there was something different about Jackie’s hands. It was. . . he didn’t know what it was, but it was unnatural. All Chase could muster was, “What the hell happened Jackie?” That only made Jackie recoil his hand. And for the first time in months, Chase could feel his heart cracking in his chest. What could Jackie have gone through, that the strongest man he knew would fall silent? “Scooch forward,” Chase instructed, standing up from the chair.

“What?” Finally, words.

“Scooch,” Chase emphasized, motioning towards himself so Jackie would move forward. Honestly, he could have wedged himself into the narrow space between Jackie and the wall already, but it was a bit of a tight squeeze.

“I–” Jackie cut himself, literally biting his own tongue. His eyes moved all over the place while he pondered the action. “I can’t.”

“Can’t?” That word wasn’t even in Jackie’s vocabulary!

“Mhm,” Jackie nodded solemnly, pulling the sheets over his mouth.

Chase sighed, but he had already made up his mind. “Alright.” He started to climb over Jackie onto the far side of the bed and eventually slid himself into the small gap. Jackie shimmied forward a little.

“Ow,ow owow,” Jackie failed to silently murmur to himself. Guilt and regret started filling Chase's head, but he shoved those feelings away; he was sure what he was doing was right.

“You want a blanket over you?”

“Mm.” Guess that was a yes. Dragging the plush blanket from its scrunched pile at the foot of the bed, Chase draped it over top both of them.

“You want me to hold you?” Normally, Chase would have enveloped either of his kids as soon as he was cuddling with them, no hesitation, but this question just kind of came out by itself. Wasn’t a bad question to ask though.

Chase could hear Jackie’s brain working, trying to formulate an answer. Was this the sort of thing his brothers had to deal with with him? “On my shoulder,” Jackie finally answered. Obeying Jackie’s request, Chase laid his hand on Jackie’s shoulder. He could feel the cloth bandages through the flimsy sheet. But, Jackie didn’t flinch at his touch at least, so that was probably good.

“You sure you can sleep with the light on?” One thing that Jackie needed in order to heal was rest. Powers or not.

But there was no answer, which Chase took as a no. Scooting himself up so he could sit up, he reached over Jackie (careful to not touch him and cause more damage) and turned off the bedside lamp. Now all that was illuminating the room were the sunrays muddled through clouds streaming in through the one half of the window not blocked by curtains. Nestling back into his position, Chase lightly tapped Jackie’s shoulder. “Go to sleep bud.” Slowly, Chase could feel Jackie start to relax and release a bit of the tension in his shoulders. He may not have been good at being a brother, or an adult in general, but he was good at comforting people. The one redeeming quality he’d mastered.


	7. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: extreme pain, blood, vomiting

It didn’t take long for Chase to fall asleep. Jackie envied that quality about him. He’d always had trouble getting and staying asleep. But now? Now it was even worse. Being bed-ridden didn’t quiet his brain, only amplified things. And even if he could calm his thoughts, there wasn’t any peace for him. Whether it was the acute awareness of his injuries, the anxiety and dread he harbored in his chest, or the torment from that demonic cat fiend, always in the shadows, always watching, waiting for him to give in.

Today was no different. It lurked in the corner of the shadows as a fog-like void with flaming green eyes. And once the sunlight faded into oblivion, and shadows encompassed the room, it descended upon him. Transforming back into that masquerader, it skulked over to Jackie’s bed. “W͐h̲̟a̧̹t̝ͬ ̵̢h̃͒a͕͋v̾͡e̪͌ ͍̃wͨͅe̮̽ ̛̔hͨͬe̓̐r͒ͮe̝͆?”

“Leave him alone!” Jackie shouted, pushing himself up so that he was sitting upright. Outstretching his arms, he tried to cover all of Chase, protect him. He may not have had his powers, but he still knew how to protect people. 

“A̼̜n͔͠d̺̎ ̵͖ẃ̩h͖͒a͇ͣt̋͟,” it started cackling, “y̸ǫů ̹t̰h͂i̖n̳k͕ ͨy͜o̘u͛ ͅc͔a̐n̖ ̜stͬo̷p͇ ̈mͬĕ?̍”

“Yes.” Didn’t matter if it was a lie, if they both knew it was a lie. Jackie tightened his hands into fists (or tried to anyway) and started mapping a plan of attack.

Claws dug into his biceps before he could even register movement. His arm wrenched above his head, lifting Jackie off his bed. Dangling so Jackie was eye level with those soulless, flaming green eyes. “Ỉ’d͗ ̼l͂i͆k͙e̞ ͇t̫ô ͓s̑e̠e̚ y̮o͠u͐ ̡t͜r͌y̓.”

Jackie kneed it with his good leg and swung his free arm around, landing it in his captor’s elbow to try and break their bond. Only, it didn’t work, like the being was made of stone (though, luckily, not as hard as stone). “M͙i͂sͮs͟i̲n̔gͮ ̐ÿo͉u̴r͒ ͭp̠oͬwͣe̲r͋s̘?” It jeered in victory, raising it’s other hand, an emerald glow growing as it moved closer to Jackie. Jackie’s eyes grew wider as it started to truly manifest, shooting sparks and arcs electricity — pulsing with  _ his _ powers. Looking at the green energy than back at Jackie, a wretched smile came across its face. “Lͯe̜t̀’͎s̠ ͙g̝i̙v̰e̠ ͉t͐h̖e̗m̀ ̯a͖ ͭt̂r̬y̙,̥ ͤs̈́h̅a̹l͈lͫ ̭wͅe̊?” Clenching his whole body, Jackie waited for the impact. But then the hand shifted, directed towards Chase’s face now.

“NO!” Without thinking, Jackie wrapped his hand over the electric sparks and left it there as the energy scorched him. His hands finally had feeling in them, the feeling of layers being singed and burnt, tearing muscles and breaking ligaments. His neck tensed, jaw clenched, and his head was forced to look towards the sky in sheer agony. Eyelids squeezed shut, and all he could do was bear it as long as he could and not scream. Held himself there for so long that pain started to become stiffness, touch started becoming numbness, and it felt as if he would be frozen in this pose.

And just when he felt himself drifting off into unconsciousness, he was freed from that prison. Tense, but not tight, numb but not unfeeling. Shaky breaths finding their way into his deprived lungs. Only when he felt Chase rolling beneath him did he realize he’d been dropped back onto the bed. Fluttering his heavy eyelids, he stared up at his demon, dazed and barely able to keep his mind on the danger that he was in. “Y̰̽o̝ͯu̲̿’reͨ̈́ ̬̽a̺͆l͌ͮl͐̚ ̫̋b͖̤uͪ́r̺̾n͇̱t́͐ ͕͋o̘͕ụ̪t͓͌.” It started reaching out towards Chase.

“nnnnn...” his mouth tried to form the words. Jackie laid down as close to Chase as he could. Lifting what felt like a fifty pound arm, he wrapped it around Chase and snaked the other arm underneath him. Even though he couldn’t feel everything, Jackie hugged his brother as tight as he brain could conceive. Nestling his face into the back of Chase’s neck, Jackie prayed that he could protect his brother. His brain was saying,  _ You can’t take him _ , but all his mouth got out was a mildly loud, “yyygghhhhhzzzz...” Chase started moving again underneath Jackie, but that only made his grip tighter.

There was a sort of tired not-yawn sound that escaped from Chase. No, Chase couldn’t know what was going, see this thing, be taken away from all of them. “Hhhhmmmmm.”  _ Just, go back to sleep _ . Jackie buried himself into Chase. He couldn’t look, didn’t want to imagine what that demon was doing, watching him squirm like this. Desperation wasn’t something Jackie enjoyed, but it was all he had right now. “Jackie?”  _ Please, just go back to sleep! _ “Jackie.” All he could do now was hug Chase, try and keep him safe. “Jackie!” Chase started shaking Jackie, but he didn’t want to open his eyes and face his brother. Tears started welling up behind his eyes. He couldn’t even protect his brother anymore. “Wake up!”

Jackie opened his eyes and he was lying on his back, Chase looming over him. It was still dark, but there was moonlight streaming through the window, allowing Jackie to see the worry on Chase’s face. The tears he’d been holding back started leaking from his eyes. “Hhai– I’m sorry,” Jackie faltered, turning his head so that he wouldn’t have to face his brother. There wasn’t even a phantom there anymore. Just, empty air.

“Sorry?” Chase wasn’t happy with him. Of course he wouldn’t be; Jackie was disappointed in himself too. There was pressure on his chest as he tried to breathe in, but it just got heavier. And then he felt himself getting squished. And Chase resting his head on Jackie’s shoulder. Even though his injuries weren’t healed and he was already in pain, Jackie wrapped his arms around his brother, straining his body even more. Jackie felt his body start to shake as he let himself actually cry. It felt so painful, but also so freeing at the same time. “I got you, Jackie.” Fuck, that was his line.

“I– I’m s-supposd t-to protect yu-you,” Jackie cried out, stuttering from the violent cries emanating from his chest.

Chase spoke, words slightly muddled, “You’re supposed to be my brother, not my hero.”

“I’m– I’m not he-he-even that.” 

“Of course you are...” Jackie couldn’t calm himself down. His throat was so dry, his chest spasming, and his body was being rocked with coughs.

“No– no– no– no I’m n-not anym-more!” It was so hard trying to hide it from everyone, but Chase had to know now, now that he had become a target.

“You wanna talk about it?” Did he  _ want _ to tell his brother that he was suffering? Hell no! Did he  _ have _ to? Yeah. Did he want to actually talk with Chase again? Yes.

Jackie gulped to try and lubricate his throat to make the words easier to say. “Mhm.” Any composure he had fumbled as he started crying again. Chase started rubbing Jackie’s back, but it didn’t help soothe him. At this point, he didn’t feel like anything could make him feel better. 

“Okay.” Chase spoke softly. Jackie wasn’t sure if the gentleness made him feel better or worse. “I’m gonna let go. And then we’re gonna sit up, you’re gonna have some water, and we’re gonna talk. That sounds good to you?” This hug felt really nice, the pain had even dulled some. Jackie wanted to just stay like this for a while, but Chase’s plan was better.

“Ok.” Jackie tried taking deep breaths as Chase slowly pulled away from him; it felt colder without him. Turning towards his window, Jackie pushed his forearm against the bed to lift up his torso. Didn’t hurt as much as before. Getting his right leg over the side was no issue, but he was far slower with the splinted one. At least he could still feel everything there. Even wiggled his toes just to make sure.

Once Jackie was situated, Chase sprung right up next and continued rocking forward until he swung himself up onto his feet. His brother grabbed the glass of water from the nightstand. “Can you hold this yourself?” That’s when Jackie fully realized Chase had seen his hands. Bandaged, so at least he couldn’t see the torn up flesh, but still damaged. God, he was such a fucking helpless mess.

“No. There’s a straw,” he managed to get out, looking at the table. Henrik always left him a straw to drink with. Chase located it and inserted the plastic into the glass. He held the glass up for Jackie as he got his mouth around the straw. The water couldn’t come fast enough through the small tube. Whether it was from the crying or the dehydration he’d developed from being in bed all day, it was refreshing and relieving. Barely had time to get air in between large gulps, and only realized how much he’d had when his stomach was starting to feel full and he was sucking on air. Letting the straw go, Jackie sat back, let himself slump down as he became very interested in avoiding Chase’s judgmental gaze by trying to move his fingers. Nothing but wrist, as always.

Glass clinked as it met wood. Jackie felt the slight lowering of his left side as Chase sat down next to him. Chase let out a long breath and Jackie felt his lungs shrink as well. “Whenever you’re ready.” As terrible as he felt, Jackie had to be ready. Shaking and nervous, like when you admit you broke the vase as a kid, but not wanting to make excuses for himself because he grew up and knew it was better to tell the truth when confronted. Things couldn’t get better without putting a proverbial one foot in front of the other.

“I was in a fight,” Jackie gulped, careful that he didn’t swallow his words. He kept his focus on the carpet. Made it easy to keep things dry and less emotional — easier to talk through. “About a week ago. . . And,” Breathe in, breathe out, “I lost. . . I dragged myself home and Henrik took a look at me. Broke my leg,” he gestured down to the splinted limb with one of his limp hands. “Broke my hands,” he lifted them up, high enough so Chase could see, but Jackie didn’t bother to check if he did or didn’t. “Got cut up all over,” his right hand made a general motion up and down his torso and his arms. At least he had a t-shirt on covering the bandages on his torso and his arms weren’t that appalling to look at. “And uh,” he cleared his throat a couple of times, “I lost my powers, somehow. So, uh, I’m not. . .” Jackie suddenly felt incredibly nauseous. He crossed his arms over his stomach and squeezed softly, trying to keep the feeling at bay. “I– I can’t be a hero anymore. No strength, no flight, no healing, just. . .” Jackie’s stomach was turning itself in knots, and he felt the acid start rising. “I need to get to the bathroom!” he blurted out before his stomach was at it again.

Before Jackie could even start trying to stand, Chase had already put Jackie’s arm around his shoulder and lifted him up to his feet. Speed was key, but the sudden movement made him overly dizzy and his vision go black for a few moments. Once he felt competent, he started quickly hopping towards the door, using Chase as support instead of his broken leg. All the jumping just made his stomach more sick. He tried swallowing it, pushing it down and moving double time. Luckily, his room was right across from the bathroom. Chase let him drop down to the bathroom floor after turning the lights and fan on for him. Jackie scrambled to get his face over the bowl as a wave of nausea finally escaped into the toilet. And then another one. There was a moment of reprieve before a final burst eked its way out. Stomach left feeling empty, Jackie tried putting his hand on the handle to flush. But, when he realized he couldn’t grasp it or even apply enough pressure to weigh it down, he just settled on sitting on the cold tile floor, back against the tub, hands down and eyes closed. Everything was warm, and weak, but the tile helped make him feel a touch better. He just focused on breathing in and out, trying to make the ache all over go away.

The quiet serenity was interrupted by the sound of porcelain objects hitting each other and water being flushed through pipes. “I’ll be right back,” Chase growled. Jackie thought he nodded, but he wasn’t sure. He heard Chase storm down the hall. No one else was home besides them. Didn’t know what Chase planned to accomplish. But, Jackie was content on the floor.

When Jackie noticed his fever had been going down and the tile beneath him was warming up, he started wondering where Chase was. There was a general muffled sound of talking, but maybe Chase was on the phone, or talking to himself. Unfortunately, his brother already had a lot to deal with, and Jackie just added another large helping of stress onto his plate. One brother with a broken body, another with a mending mind. Jackie snickered as a half-formed thought popped into his head. Mind & spirit. Heart & soul. All they needed was a suffering spirit, a healing heart, and a shaken soul. Then they would be a whole person, or broken person, as a family. Course, that wasn’t true, but his brain wasn’t quite firing on all cylinders at this point.

Finalmente, the sound of footsteps reached Jackie’s ears. Fluttering his eyes open, it took a few seconds to adjust to the bright light. Once he clearly saw Chase, he noticed the fresh blood on his face and looked down to see some reddish brown stains on his shirt. “What–”

“Don’t worry about it,” Chase cut him off, kneeling down so they were at eye level. “Look, powers or not, you’re still my kid brother. And right now, you’re really hurt. So, I’m taking you to the hospital. And you’re not gonna complain because I’m your older brother, which means it’s my damn job to make sure you’re okay.” Chase was breathing hard, staring right at Jackie. His eyes were drained, but still he was here, in the moment. “But jesus fuck Jackie, couldn’t you have said something sooner, ya stubborn bastard?” Chase added that southern twang at the end and that just made Jackie let out a stifled chuckle despite how ashamed he felt inside. But that got Chase to smile for a moment too. “Alright, come on,” Chase spoke a little more light-hearted, beckoning Jackie forward with his hand. With some effort, he moved forward and the two worked together to lift Jackie from the ground. After that, Chase maneuvered them so he was on Jackie’s left, and the two started walking out towards the stairs. “Oh, and the doc’s driving us.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it be better for you to drive?”

“Well, I might have a concussion, soooooo...” Jackie stopped and looked at Chase who was looking away like a kid who looks the opposite direction of a vase he just broke. “But, he should be fine to drive. He just wanted to get a bit cleaned up first, but he’ll be downstairs soon enough. We just gotta get you down first.” Chase smiled for Jackie, even it wasn’t really that reassuring. But, at the very least, it felt good to be outside of that room. And bittersweet that at least someone else knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so i'm trying to write chapter 9, and it's taking much longer than I originally thought (I've already re-written it 3 times because the plot keeps changing itself). So, it's probably gonna be a while before that gets posted. Rest assured though, I am working on it. And I'm trying to give you some heart-breaking fluff.


	8. Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know that I’m slow to update this, and I apologize for that. But, I’m still working on it, and trying to edit to have it be how I want. I also want to say right now that I am posting chapters as I write, so unfortunately, if I want to add in something to say chapter 3, I can’t do that and assume everyone will know. So, if I need to change or add history, it’s gonna be in one of these notes. Thanks for reading my story thus far. <3
> 
> Content warning: hospital, blood, fear, medical

First thing Jackie remembered of the hospital was waking up, refreshed. Groggy in his head, but no agony to be felt. Blindingly bright light burning his eyes was a sharp contrast to that peaceful state. Shielding his eyes with his arm and squeezing his eyes shut, Jackie wanted to give himself a moment to adjust. But just moving his arm sent signals to wake up every part of his body. Texture from the sheets and bandages wrapped around his body. The metal needle stuck in his blood vessel, releasing some kind of drug in him. A numbing agent, floating through him, seemingly coating his cells, telling them everything was fine, when his mind knew that wasn’t possible. Heart beats were quickening, temperature rising quickly, blood starting to pound in his ear, and his mind racing while fighting the anesthetic he could feel seeping into his brain.

Opening his eyes to the dizzying light and tearing the thin sheet away, the hyper-awareness only heightened. Beneath the wrap on his chest, he felt the ends of his ribs catching on his tissue with every breath. The boot on his foot exerting enough pressure that it felt like it would cut off blood flow. Despite that, the drug now seemed to reach every point of his existence, even down to the very tips of his extremities, leaving a creeping sense of renewal in its wake. But reality, pain, took root. His leg felt like it was shrinking, as if his lower leg was being squished to fit all inside his knee and hip. Jackie went to grab at his thigh, try to physically get a handle on what he was feeling, and he suddenly froze, focus shifting to the very bane of his existence. His hands, now covered in a fresh, thinner layer of wrappings, looking abnormally normal. But he could still  _ feel _ where the divets were, recall every failing and fracture of them. Turning them over and over, slowly, looking for the flaws that were there but hidden from view. That numbing agent seemed to be reaching every single point in them, preventing him from fully experiencing the pain he knew in his heart.

But, the smallest bit of hope crept into his face when his mind started to remember. Remember the nothing. The absolute silence of the surgery, the block his mind had created after leaving the house. No pesky intruders, no having to fight, just the sweet peace of having no thoughts and no responsibility for a few hours. But even more importantly, the nothing in his hands. There hadn’t even been any sensation before. But now? Now there was numb. A spark in him tried to wiggle his fingers, and then that smile faded. Everything seemed to sink into the relatively squishy mattress beneath him. Head half-way buried in the pillow, legs stuck in invisible depressions made by his own weight, and hands lazily draped over the side. Tilting up slightly, he looked at his hands again. Moving his arm, he made his fingertips hover on the edge of his bed, trying to feel the slight bend in them that mimicked the mattress. He wasn’t making them do that — it was just gravity at work now — but that wasn’t the point. Returning to his restful position, Jackie let himself smile, closing his eyes to the light. He didn’t sleep, but he did just lay there, focusing on feeling with his hands while everything else calmed down. Calm to the point where it wasn’t laborious to breath anymore.

Eventually, his brain reached the point that it was getting restless with all the inactivity. Not like before either. This was more of a. . . a desire, a need or wanting to do something, having the energy to do something. Much nicer than the relentless chattering of before. Singular, calm thoughts. That’s what he had right now.

The light wasn’t as disorienting this time round. Jackie propped himself on his elbows and took a look around the room. Nothing special. It was small, there was a window with shades blocking out the sunlight, a couple of chairs– !, and his brother, lounging with his legs off one arm of the chair and back braced against the other arm, his hat positioned so that it covered up half his face. “Doofus,” Jackie teased with a small chuckle. Looking around, there wasn’t anything within arm’s reach to playfully throw at him. “Never could sit normally, could ya?” Jackie continued, unsure why he was exactly messing with Chase. It was fun though. Felt like the old days.

There was a shifting and small groans escaping the formerly sleeping man. Swinging his legs down onto the floor, Chase leaned back, finally tilting his cap, giving Jackie a glimpse of his mischievous face. “Just one more thing ya love ’bout me, ya big oaf,” Chase retorted with a smile. Jackie’s smile widened at that. “How ya feelin’ bud?” Chase asked more earnestly, leaning forward a tad, hands sitting contently in his laps.

Jackie looked back down at his hands, focusing on the feeling in his fingertips. “Think I’m better. Not so much pain anymore. And it’s quiet.” Jackie closed his eyes and took a breath through his nose, so deep that his ribs started digging into him, but their tips weren’t sharp like before. Breathing out, his eyes slowly fluttered open. “It’s much nicer than I’d thought it would be.” His body wanted to slump back down, but Jackie wanted to keep talking with Chase. It’d been ages since they had a proper chat. 

“Much nicer nurses too,” Chase added, biting his lip and letting it go, his eyes drifting up as his mind wandered.

“Shut, up,” Jackie chided him, lifting his arm and throwing an invisible pillow at his brother.

“You’ll see,” Chase smiled playfully. Taking his cap off, Chase ran his fingers through his hair, combing it back into place. It looked almost twice as long as Jackie remembered. But, that wasn’t the only difference in Chase. Stitches, bandages, bruises, and flecks of dried blood. Then Jackie started remembering the haze that was last night. He had told Chase about . . . just losing and his broken bones, not the cat trying to kill him. Then he got very sick. . . Chase left the room . . . Jackie squeezed his eyes shut to try and visualize, focus on the memories. Chase had come back, and was bleeding. . . He’d helped Jackie hobble down the steps and then set him on the couch. His head started throbbing, and Chase had placed a damp washcloth on his face unprompted. . . He knew he got to the car somehow, and that Henrik was there, and so was Chase, and they were arguing, but all Jackie could remember clearly was the pain in his head. There were so many gaps though. Hopefully they’d come back with time, but he had to start asking questions.

“How’d you get those cuts on your face?”

“Smashed into a wall,” Chase answered nonchalantly, focusing on trying to get his legs to fit criss-cross in his chair. When he finally finished, he looked back up at Jackie and did that dopey smile. Even though it looked sincere, something inside Jackie was saying that there was more.

“Just a wall?”

“Well I accidentally  _ smacked _ ,” he did a sweeping wave with his hand for emphasis, “my hand into my dresser, and may have bumped my head on the edge of it too, but nothing more than that.”

“Uh-huh.” Jackie nodded slowly along with his words. Definitely not the truth. But, Chase would clam up if he was confronted, unfortunately. Guess he’d have to leave it alone for now. “Why were you and Henrik arguing?” Those two had never been necessarily close, and growing up Chase hated being compared to Henrik, but he thought the two of them were past that stuff now.

Chase’s brow furrowed, his jaw got visibly tighter, and Jackie glimpsed his hands clenching. But, then Chase placed his hands flat on the arm rests, opening his mouth wide for a large sigh. Even after that though, his eyes still had a death stare in them and any trace of joy had drained from his cheeks. “Because that  _ doctor _ should have known better,” Chase sneered.

“But Henrik wasn’t–”

“Doesn’t matter! If he  _ truly _ cared about your well-being, he would’ve brought you in days ago instead of letting you rot in your bed!” Chase spat out, contempt dripping from every syllable.

“This wasn’t his fault, Chase. I’m the one–”

“Don’t make excuses for that quack!” That’s it.

“Chase! I should have been healed by now. On My Own. Except I’m not. Because I lost my powers. And that’s not something Henrik could have known. If it’s anyone’s fault that I’m like this, it’s my own.”

“Don’t say that. You’re just–”

“I’m just what? Hurt? Yeah, I get hurt, Chase. It’s part of my job. And a bigger part of that is taking  _ responsibility _ for the consequences– for my actions which have consequences. Because  _ I’m _ the one that saves people. And that inevitably includes myself. Damaged or not.” Jackie laid his head down, his whole body getting tired and his head growing hot. “You’re not my dad, and I’m not a child. So you either accept that this is my reality, or get out.” That last line had more bite to it than Jackie wanted. But he didn’t want Chase here if he was just going to bad-mouth Henrik. Whether hiding it and waiting for Jackie to get better was a good decision or not, it was his idea, and they were both culpable, and it’s what had happened.

Heavy steps reached Jackie’s ears. Guess he had his answer then. In his mind, Jackie was clenching his sheets, trying to hold tight to something, but all he felt was that numbness pricking at his fingertips.

“You deserve better than this, Jackie.” Chase sounded so sad. Almost made Jackie want to apologize. But neither brother budged. “You were my brother before you were a superhero.” Chase knocked twice on the door frame before promptly exiting. His words hung in the room like the stale air. No tears would form or fall nor sore throat sour his breathing. All there was was the usual pain that came with breathing. And the flame of a wish, that he didn’t have to be the superhero.


	9. Planning for the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even if his brothers are having a spat, Jackie needs to focus on himself for right now. Or rather, his current self to have a better future self. Hopefully Chase or Henrik will be by soon though. Not exactly fun idling in a hospital bed all alone. Can't even twiddle his thumbs to pass the time.

Chase was partially right, about the staff being better than Henrik. Mostly, it was the sheer fact that his doctor didn’t judge him for his injuries. Kept a positive attitude through all of it too. She’d told him what she did to fix him during his surgery, what her plan was moving forward, and what he would have to face over the next coming weeks. Even though he was “better” now than when he came in, it sounded like a long time before he could be back to normal. Whatever his new normal would be that was. Jackie sighed as he sunk into that realization. He’d finally said aloud he couldn’t be a superhero, but never let himself fully think about the aftermath of that.

“An important part of the recovery process is having a support system. Do you have someone around that could assist you while you heal?”

Genuine concern. It was strange to hear it, especially when he was the one usually concerned about everyone else. Unease slithered through his spine, but that was good. This was an emotion he dealt with daily, one that he’d condition himself to respond to in a better way. Flash a cocky smile, and just a dash of humour. “Like I’d let a few broken bones keep me down.” Didn’t seem to land though. Clearing his throat, he continued in a more appropriate way, “but, yeah, one of my brothers will be around to help me for sure.” Maybe Henrik would stop by soon. Jackie wasn’t sure if the loathing Chase felt towards the doctor was reciprocated, but at the very least, when Chase wasn’t around, Henrik had an opening.

“Good.” Just another thing to check off on her list. What was the next agenda item then? “I’m going to keep you here for a few days so that we can monitor for infection. And I’d like to get you started with some physical therapy soon. For now though, just try to relax. Watch some television, sleep, de-stress – Don’t over exert yourself. We’re working on healing for the long term, and overworking yourself right now can cause more harm than good. Now, do you have any questions for me?”

Questions? Maybe, was he actually going to be okay? Would he be able to ever use his hands again? What was he supposed to be asking even? Normally, Henrik just did whatever medical patching was necessary, and  _ Maybe  _ a quick explanation before he’d start“fixing” Jackie. Jackie’d never been curious enough to learn about what Henrik did. As long as he was near good as new a couple days later, it didn’t matter. Now he actually needed to know though. But she’d already told him her plan and long term goals. No doubt those details would change along the way, but he had a clear path for the next few days. And what he questioned — what he was concerned about, were long term things. Long term promises were so hard to make, and he didn’t want to put her in that position. “I got nothing doc.”

“Alright then. I’ll check in on you tomorrow, Jackie.” When she left, he half expected someone else to pop-in, whether it was a nurse or a brother, but no one showed up. A white noise kind of silence made its presence known — made it easy to put a pause on life.

Jackie’s mind was quiet, thoughts small, but he wasn’t tired. Since he could now think coherently, maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to actually think about his future. Plan his recovery out, plan how to let his last brother find out, plan what to do if he couldn’t– maybe  _ wouldn’t _ be a superhero anymore. Despite the necessity of all of that, the order to not stress, not over-exert himself danced around his brain. She was the expert on medical matters, Jackie had to admit that to himself.

So the task — or rather question — became: how much did thinking hurt, and how much would this specific subject matter add to that anguish? Breathing in a bit too deeply and being stuck by his rib, he decided to turn to a different subject matter. Something not so depressing hopefully. Depression... Chase. Had he actually been diagnosed? He’d seen a psychiatrist in the hospital, right? But after that? Was it just his three brothers checking in, wasn’t it? But they’d never made any schedule of it. They weren’t universally tracking Chase’s progress, and as far as Jackie knew, they never really talked to each other about how to handle this aside from those first few days. It was just a general agreement to monitor Chase, but Jackie had been  _ severely _ slacking in those duties. Stupidly, of course. So wrapped up in his civic duty that he hadn’t been doing his brotherly duty.

He couldn’t change that now. The future was still in flux though. Maybe with all this new idle time he’d been forced into, he could take the opportunity to help Chase. If nothing else, they would have the chance to talk longer than just exchanging small pleasantries. Even better, it was a win-win situation! Help Chase with his problems and spend more time with his family! After all, he’d fought off death just to make sure he got back to all of them; he’d be damned if he was going to waste this time again.

Right, focus. Focus on Chase, form a plan, and implement it when he came back– if, he came back. Unfortunately, Chase had trouble controlling his anger (well, every emotion really), and that’s what got him into trouble. But, everyone knew that now. Even though Chase shouldn’t have been so rude and presumptuous, neither should have Jackie. Jackie never did like fighting with words in the first place anyway. But through all the fighting, they each had points; it was just... a poorly handled situation. Hopefully Jackie didn’t fatally jab at Chase’s heart – it was far too easy for his brother to catastrophize every conversation.  _ Real smooth there, Jackieboy man. _

Come on, focus. Plan.  _ Spend time with Chase. Talk with Chase. Maybe don't confront him directly, but let him know he can talk to you. Safe environment. And right now, it’s not about you. So, just leave your trauma alone for now. His too. You can bring it up once he starts opening up. No Henrik either. Try and steer clear from anger, for the both of you. Fun. Keep things light and inviting. Maybe get him curious about things so he’s not stuck in a rut. Make it nice and fun. Fun. . . What topics were fun. . . or nice. . . This bed was pretty. . . nice. . . _

Opening his eyes, the world had turned sideways, and Jackie was looking directly at Chase. Body heavy, like always, and mind still not tired. What was he thinking about again?

“Hey sleepy head!” Such a boisterous greeting. At least Chase was in good spirits now.

“Hey,” Jackie yawned, his voice still waking up.

“You were smilin’,” Chase commented, excitement pouring out of him into the surrounding air.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” There was a pause as Jackie could hear wheels turning. “Reminded me of when you were little. Always had a smile on your face, no matter whatcha were doin’.” That brought him back. When he would just be goofing around with his friends, or messing about with Chase, or just going on his grand ol’ adventures. Now he could feel that smile creeping up on his face. “And hey,” the words interrupted the distant memories from fully surfacing, “I wanted to uh, um, apologize, for my behavior earlier.” Chase’s pace slowed down as he stumbled through his apology. “Iiiii,” stretched out as Chase’s eyes searched the room for the words, finally landing back on Jackie, “should have been focusing on you, and Iiiii...” he paused for a breath in and took an exceptionally long time to exhale. “I made it about my feelings instead. So, this is me. . . trying to be just here, for you. Whatever you need.” Mouth still open, it looked like he would continue. But, his eyes turned downwards, and his chest deflated, as he just looked down towards the floor beneath them.

Jackie wasn’t sure how long Chase would be able to keep things focused on only Jackie, or if he even wanted that. Nor if Chase really understood what Jackie was mad about. Not even mad — upset. And there was this pit feeling that even for that, there were deep things all tangled up with it. But, Chase was at the very least sincere, that much was obvious. Trying, which is all Jackie could ask from him at this point. “Thanks.”

An invisible force shattered, and Chase seemed to relax more, but not as dramatically as the feeling of it all. There was a place for Chase to respond, but that opportunity seemed to disappear as well, leaving Chase frozen in place for a moment. Placing his hands on the side of the bed, Chase rocked back and forth a couple times. “So, uh, I guess, what do you need, or, er, want. to do. Or, talk about.”

Jackie was never good at being idle, made him want to squirm if he sat too long, which is part of what made this last week hell. Talking – hell, socializing would keep him occupied. But looking at Chase, his mind was blank. What would they talk about? Him? No. He didn’t want that, and they’d probably get into another disagreement, or he’d break down. He’d have to talk with himself about all this –  _ Actually _ talk, like out loud – before talking to someone else. So what did that leave. His brothers? Chase? Didn’t seem like a good choice since he had just apologized about making this about him, even though knowing his brother’s mental well being would have put Jackie’s mind at ease. Or, if he was struggling, give him something to focus on !– that was it! THat’s what he wanted to do. Have fun with each other. “Do something fun, I guess?”

“Well, we can always watch something.” God, they hadn’t done that in foreeever.

“Yeah, sure. How about an anime?” Jackie didn’t know what it was, the characters, the plot, the emotions, or the animation style, but they always made him happy. And when he used to watch them with Chase, Chase always seemed to be happy too.

“You find a new one?”

Well, he hadn’t had any time recently. But then again, there was a library full of anime Chase hadn’t yet seen. “Something new to you,” Jackie answered slyly. That gave him an idea for which show to pick. “It’s called ‘Seven Deadly Sins.’ It’s on Netflix.”

“What’s it about?”

“Uh, . . .” What was a good explanation? “Uh, adventure party, uh, of knights, uh,” Closing his eyes and leaning his head back, Jackie tried to remember and think of what to say. “To uh, fight a great evil... Huuhhhh,” Jackie whined, unable to accomplish more than a vague description. “You know, just, like. Urgh, you’ll like it, don’t worry. Just give it a couple episodes to get started, ya know?”

Chase laughed a little through his smile, “Alright man,” turning away towards his chair. “Let’s see if I can remember the password then.” Oh, right. They typically watched on their TV. But that wasn’t here. Wait– Chase wasn’t that concerned. But he couldn’t have brought the TV all the way here, or known Jackie would want to watch something.

Plastic clashing against a hard surface broke his train of thought, directing him to the disturbance. Laptop. Of course! Man, his brain was slow to catch up with reality right now. Even with that mental handicap, it was easy enough to keep up with something he’s already seen. “Aahhhh oooookkkayyyy... aaaannnnddddd there!” Chase rolled a floating table around so that the supported laptop was now hovering over Jackie’s lap. Why was a table even like that? A long pole supporting the entire wood platform on one edge? Surely not just for holding laptops. “It alright if I ask questions during?”

No way to stop him. It was just one of Chase’s quirks — couldn’t keep his mouth shut during a show. “Just make sure subtitles are on so you can follow the plot.” Though, of course, that wouldn’t stop Chase from making predictions. But hopefully, he would read more than talk. Jackie physically shook the thought from his head. Nope, no, this was fun time. Fun time with Chase. Just be glad he’s hanging out with you. And try to relax. Just brotherly bonding time.


	10. It’s not as bad as you think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase is trying his best to be there for his brother. After all, that’s what you did when one of your own kin was in pain. But how easy is it really to be there for someone? How easy to just keep being there for them day in and day out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: hospital, guilt, depression, suicide trauma

It was so strange. Jackie looked... normal. Well, except the boot on his leg. But generally, normal. And they were hanging out again. Watching anime, with Chase trying his darndest to follow the plot, but not having enough self-control from interrupting with his thoughts. From saying how the story will go (and hoping that he would be proved wrong), to asking so many questions about character characteristics, to simply yelling at their sheer stupidity. Even with everything being so normal and fun with Jackie though, it was nothing more than a fun little escape from reality, and an easily broken one at that. All it took was a long look around, or an interruption from the nurse checking on Jackie, or the tests he’d be wheeled away for, and the darkness started crawling in from the shadows.

Chase always found himself futzing about, trying to handle the time. The gaps reminded him that he had an obligation to eat. Usually, he would just glumly gaze into the vending machine. On occasion, he would wander down to the cafeteria for something more substantial. Well, something that looked more substantial. Everything just felt the same though.

And yet, nothing could be farther from that. The pair may have been watching things together, but they didn’t talk. No conversation topic could come to Chase’s mind. Well, no _positive_ topic. So, they were re-living the old memories in these new circumstances. Chase was starting to feel properly close to Jackie again, but every silent moment that should have been filled with laughter and stupidity and general merriment added a brick to the invisible wall building between them. There was fun, but no substance. Life right now, for the both of them, was far too depressing right now to bare mention. Especially when recovery meant trying to think positively, and Jackie needed all his strength to focus on healing himself. Recovering. Recoil maybe. If he really had lost. . . Jackie without powers. . . Chase couldn’t imagine it.

But maybe it wasn’t as bad as Jackie made it sound? First time Jackie came back from his x-rays, he’d had cotton balls taped to his ears. Apparently they’d started bleeding as soon as the machine was flipped on. That meant he still had his super-hearing. Chase never did press Jackie on the extent of his injuries, nor did he want to, but knowing there was still some fight in him made everything seem less bad. Maybe it was the doctors, or maybe it was his healing kicking in. Something was working though. There were twitches in Jackie’s fingers, every now and then, just barely visible out of the corner of Chase’s eyes. But those made his heart soar. Jackie had said they were busted, but that couldn’t have been true; he’d seen Jackie grip the stair railing when Chase brought him downstairs that night. They were working now, and Chase would catch small green sparkles lighting up his fingertips almost once a day. There was still hope that Jackie could get back to where he was. Change too minuscule for Jackie to care, but mountains in Chase’s mind. _Every small step towards progress was a victory step,_ he’d repeat in his mind.

Still, this little slice of suspended reality came to a break at the end of visiting hours. And a lone, silent car drive back to their house. Didn’t matter if the other two cars were in the drive or if he was the only one there, his nightly ritual was the same: enter the house and go straight to his room. Usually, it involved just laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Sometimes, he’d start crying for no reason whatsoever, then wake up in the middle of the night. Other times, he was better and would try to think of things he could do with Jackie. Support. He would be Jackie’s support. Not like that doctor could be trusted with him anymore. And Jameson. . . 

Chase knew he should tell Jamie. Wanted to too. But, he’d promised Jackie. Out of the blue, his hero had asked him not to tell their youngest brother about this. Lie to him, say that he was working on a large drug bust and had to go away for the foreseeable future. Even directed Chase to craft a text message and press send on it. It was pure luck that Jackie didn’t ask to see the sent message, because Chase couldn’t– wouldn’t even draft it. Typed something else into the phone’s notepad to look busy. Jamie should know, should’ve been able to help.

When Jameson knocked on his door one night, Chase clambered to sit up straight and rush to his desk to look like a presentable person, barely managing to not trip on his clothes strewn about the floor. “S’open!” he hollered. That familiar creak of the hinges and then the floorboards creaking underneath Jameson as he walked over to his brother. Facing the dapper boy, Chase finally properly greeted him, as was only expected. “Hey Jameson,” he tiredly smiled. The return greeting was very unexpected.

Laying a plate gentle down onto the desktop, Jameson tipped his head as if to say hello. Once he was standing straight again, he signed, _“_ I thought you perhaps forgot dinner.” A wavering smile on his face, almost like he was unsure of himself.

“Uh, thanks Jame.” That probably was true, him not eating, but he couldn’t even remember the last thing he ate. Wait– it was some kind of granola bar. Yeah... “You didn’t have to do that though.”

“Yes, quite.” Jameson started fiddling with his hands, his gaze turned up and away from Chase.

“. . . Did you want to talk about something?” It was plainly obvious he did, and Chase was sincere in asking too, so why did it feel so disingenuous and bitter to say?

There was some more fiddling before he could create a thought. “Jackie,” Oh no. “I haven’t seen him in his room, and Henrik won’t say anything. . . I worry for him, Chase.” Looking up at Jamie’s face, worry wasn’t the right word. Fear, or panic. Maybe even terror. Even though he was already small, Jamie seemed to be shrunk into himself. He’d let his posture go, started running his fingers through his hair, and Chase was only now noticing the incongruities in his outfit.

Chase wanted to say he was right to be worried, but that betrayed the fact that Jackie _would_ recover. Wanted to tell Jameson that he could go to the hospital with him tomorrow to see Jackie, but that would only humiliate the hero, and show that Chase wasn’t worthy of his trust. Aching to tell Jameson the truth, but knowing the truth would only hurt him too. God, he was supposed to be more open with his brothers too. Especially Jamie, who never did hide anything.

“He’s, he’s just–” light filled those puppy dog eyes of his. Chase couldn’t crush his innocent little brother like this. “just working on a case out of town.” Jameson breathed a huge sigh of relief, while Chase only seemed to absorb that anxiety. “Yeah, he. . .” Chase put his hand on the back of his neck to maybe think better. “he said something about a drug bust, but that he wouldn’t be able to talk with us for a bit.”

Jamie let out an audible sigh of relief. “Thank you for telling me.” He put a hand on Chase’s shoulder and just smiled at him.

“Of course,” Chase replied, trying to sound normal. There was an attempt at a smile, but it felt too hard to muster up. “And uh, thanks again for the food.” Chase sank further into his chair, lifting Jamie’s hand off of him. He didn’t deserve this kindness.

“Of course. And glad to see you’re spending more time out. Really proud of your progress.”

“Uh, thanks.” What progress? _Getting out of the house_ , he reminded himself. Yeah, getting out, and doing nothing, and lying.

Jamie left Chase alone to eat his dinner. Any appetite Chase may have had left him and was replaced by a hole in his stomach. Getting up, his vision became momentarily clouded with black spots. It made Chase lean back against his desk, but went away after a time. Must’ve stood up too fast. Maybe he should just get to sleep. Flopping onto his bed, Chase covered his head with the pillow, trying to block out the light of the world. He didn’t deserve that right now.

It was restless that night. Chase could remember having nightmares, but not what about. Woke him multiple times in the night. And when he’d had enough of his dreams tormenting him, he felt too heavy to get up, so he just laid on his back, arm over his eyes, trying to not think. But even that grew tiresome too.

Dragging himself out of bed long after 9 am, he shambled over to his closet. Taking random clothes out, he sluggishly changed out of his dirty disheveled clothing. Didn’t even shoot them into the hamper, just left the mess on the floor. His stomach barked at him, begging for food. Turning, he eyed his dinner from last night. Another growl rumbled through his stomach. As undeserving as he felt, Chase had to remind himself that his body needed food, even when his mind disagreed. Two cold bites in, and his mouth was getting dry. Water too. Sighing deeply, he resigned to get up and walk to the bed to recover the water bottle. Hadn’t been drinking enough either it seemed.

After downing the rest of the bottle, Chase shuffled to the bathroom to finish preparing for the day. Looking at himself in the mirror, he seemed a bit paler today. His vision started getting black spots in it again. After blinking a couple times, they faded away. That’s what happened with no rest. Maybe today he would need a coffee to be alert enough to drive. Passing by the studio, Chase heard the faint sounds of Jameson’s cello. It gave him pause. Maybe he should go in and. . . and what. There was no use. He was probably recording anyway, and would get mad at Chase for interrupting him. Trudging down the stairs and into the kitchen, he went through the motions of brewing a pot. While he waited, Chase thought. Thought about talking. Actually talking with Jackie. But what good would moaning about the same things do? Jackie knew his problems. They all knew Chase’s problems. So what would it even be for? For himself?

Chase felt the rise and fall of his chest. The machine seemed to have finished now. Pouring himself a cup, the caffeine finally jump-started his system. Just tasted like dirty dish water and not that bitterness he’d grown to love. At least it made him feel more awake. One last round up the stairs to grab his stuff: wallet, keys, phone, laptop, and chargers. There was a nagging at the back of his mind, like he was trying to remember something, but that was everything he usually brought. But that unease didn’t go away. Not walking to the car, not during the drive, not even once he made it to Jackie’s room.

“Hey! Good to see you come around!” Jackie bellowed. At least one of them was having a good morning. But, Chase wouldn’t spoil it, so he plastered on a half smile.

“Like I’d leave you to just die of boredom.” His smile soured as he realized what he actually said. “Just a late start is all,” he tried to recover. “You get a good sleep?”

“Generally,” Jackie answered, leaning more into his pillow. “Not as tired anymore though.”

“Well that’s– resting sleep is good.” Coherency also apparently accompanied good sleep. “So, which show we watchin’ today?”

“I dunno, kinda thinking. . . something new.” Ughhh. Chase didn’t have the energy to invest himself in yet _another_ show. It was bad enough that they’d already finished two animes in the past few days. So many new characters and plot only to find out that the shows weren’t going to be continued and come to a full resolution. But today in general just had this horrible vibe to it. Chase didn’t want something new, he wanted something old, something comforting. “Chase?”

“Huh?”

“I was asking about that show that Jamie really liked. The one with the baking, and the tent and the. . . the,” Jackie closed his eyes and pressed his hand to his forehead. Chase saw Jackie’s fingers curl a little as his brother’s brow furrowed in furious thought. “The– the british guy who gives out the handshakes.”

“Great British Bake-off?”

“Yes!” His eyes lit up as he threw his arms forward in triumph. “That one! Think we can do that one? I wanna be able to talk with Jameson about something light when they eventually let me out of here.”

Chase took his usual seat finally and opened his laptop on his lap, waiting for it to boot up to the login screen. “Don’t know if they have a current season going. . .” Chase thought aloud, pausing to key his password into the computer, twice. Thrice. “But I’m sure I can get some season up.”

As his fingers mindlessly typed, Chase felt compelled to say something. “I spoke with Jameson last night. . . about you.” In his upper peripheral, there was a stirring from the bed. “He’s worried about you y’know.” An understatement to not worry his other brother. Ich, it felt dirty being so duplicitous. “I assured him you were just out of town on a mission, but I don’t think that’s enough J.” Chase finally stopped and looked at his brother. Couldn’t get a read on his expression, just. . . leaning forward, listening. “He’s a smart guy, and he’s gonna figure something’s up.” Thoughts bubbled, like how Jamie would probably feel more relieved if he knew the whole truth, or how Jackie would feel better about it, or how this lying made Chase feel, or how this whole situation wasn’t as bad or debilitating as he thought it was. Yet, Chase seemed to be tongue-tied at the moment.

“I know, I know. But I just. . . I don’t need him to smother me and worry if I’m okay. I don’t want to burden him with this if I don’t have to.” _So, that’s what you think._

The room was silent as Chase’s mind formulated a sentence two, three times over. “You wouldn’t have told me had I not gone into your room that night.” He looked at Jackie for the inevitable response. The hero’s shoulders rose and fell with heavy breath, and a shake of his head. Chase went backing to messing about on the computer, not even trying to do anything besides not look at the shame. Disgust boiled inside him before he finally slammed his brick of a laptop onto the table. “You’re such a hypocrite! Saying you don’t _need support_ when that’s what you tried to cram down my throat! Justifying your lies with something so stupid it barely holds up to a straw man argument. You can’t be your own damn support all the time! And you sure as hell can’t be protecting Jameson by having him stay away from you when you’re hurt! Because as bad as it is now, it is far worse further down this road. _Trust_ me.

“I mean look at you now! You actually got stitched up, and you’re not having nightmares anymore, and your fingers are twitching! Think that’s just a coincidence that happened with time? No! It’s cause I found out and _I_ did things to _help_ **_you_ ** . Because support may be a burden to you, but it’s a _heroic_ job for us.” Chase had to take a physical pause and steady his footing. But then he wiped the tears from his face and continued on. “And even if you hate us for being here, seeing you like this, we’d rather see you like this now then regret not seeing you later,” Chase croaked. No, he had to finish this. “So just, stop trying to be so tough! You have me, and your doctor, and our army doctor. The more people that you let help, the easier it is to stay afloat.”

Blood rushing through his face heated up the tears on his cheeks. He sniffed, waiting for Jackie to respond. The hero couldn’t face him, turning around so his back was to his brother. Not even able to direct his attention to him. The mutterings from him though, Chase could hear them crystal clear. “I didn’t want your help.”

Anger. Rage. Shaking that idiot until sense could be knocked into that thick skull of his. That’s what he wanted to do. Because Jackie was infuriating– no, purely spiteful now. Chase wanted to scream, yell until he was hoarse for a week. It took every ounce of self-restraint to just storm out and have that be the scene he made. Every step he took got heavier and heavier though, as all that violence was converted into that all too easily encompassing sadness. Jackie didn’t want him.

Chase hit the elevator button, but his heart started hurting so much. He laid a hand over it to try and give it feeling, but it just solidified itself into a rock-hard stone. The doors opened, letting the hospital personnel off. Lowering his fist, Chase got on the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. He leaned against the side wall, using it as his support. Cries shook his body, and he felt so utterly alone in that empty elevator.

Gaze falling back on the elevator buttons, he changed his mind and hit the second floor button. They were already on his intended floor though. Others got on, and he tried to stay glued to his side wall, hide himself from view as everyone selected their floor. Heading back up, his was the first stop. Dashing out, he tried to remember how to get to Henrik’s office. Stumbling around, he kept looking at the name plates, wishing he could have remembered and made this easier. Last door on the right, and Chase could barely find the strength to stand, leaning his head – his whole body against the door. Knocking twice, he felt the crushing realization of not being wanted anymore, pulling him down, closer to darkness. Nothing. Not even an exhausted shuffle over to the door.

Limply putting his hand around the handle, Chase tried to open the door. Unlocked, but no one inside. The lights were still on, like he’d just stepped out for a minute. Stepping in, Chase didn’t know what to do. Wait? Leave a note? He made a move to sit down in one of the patient chairs, but couldn’t bring himself to do that. Couldn’t sit ’cause it felt like he would never get up again. Searching around, the only blank paper Chase could see was a sticky note. Fitting that he’d have to write like he was an afterthought. Taking a pen and the pad, Chase scribbled down, _Talk to Jackie please_. But just looking at it, it was barely legible. Even worse than when Henrik tried to write. Suddenly the pad was on the other side of the room, and Chase’s head was in his hands. Bent over, forearms on the table and head hanging low, staring at the ground, Chase was holding on by a small thread. Couldn’t even get a message to him.

Standing himself up to leave in shame, he noticed the desk phone. Text? Digging into his pocket, Chase tried multiple times to just unlock it, finally succeeding and opening the messenger. _Talk to Jackie please._ Sent. There was a small flame inside of him. Chase grasped his phone tightly, waiting for a response. But as the seconds dragged on without change, it all died down with a bitter smoke. Flipping it over, Chase smashed the infernal device into the desk, unable to bear even looking at it anymore. Like Schneep would listen to Chase after their last fight. Why should he? He was, after all, the better person of the two of them — not the screw up of the entire clan.

Chase felt like running out, but couldn’t manage to move at such a fast pace. His stomach agonizing him, his face burning up. Stopping at an abandoned cart in the hall, Chase grabbed the first cloth-like thing to try and wipe down his face. But running the fabric over his eyes only made them hurt even more.

No elevator. Stairs. He didn’t want to be seen anymore. His grip on the rail barely able to keep up with his feet flying down the stairs. Losing his footing on the very last step and plummeting into the floor. Tears hit the floor and he wanted to stay there and wallow, but the sound of doors echoed in the building. Not here.

Pressing his palms into the ground, he managed to get up onto his bruised knees, then lift himself back to a stand. Blood drops speckled the floor. Chase felt around his face, finding two spots that were starting to ooze. _Couldn’t even manage to walk right_.

Exiting back into the building, he looked for the escape route, following the sunlight. But once outside, he looked for the most secluded spot. One where he couldn’t be seen, wouldn’t be disturbed. And finally, once he’d gone around the side, past the parking lot, there was dull wall, surrounded by grass. He let himself lean against the wall and sink down. His head came to rest on his legs, squeezing everything so tight that he was almost like a little ball. All the outside space to allow his emotions unfold themselves and let himself truly experience them. Wailing, screaming, crying, vocalizing the emotions that were too intense inside of him.

It wasn’t enough that he had brothers if they didn’t want him back. Didn’t matter that he had been trying so damn hard to “be right.” If no one could appreciate him, what was he even doing? Relaxing his grip, Chase pressed himself against the wall, looking at the blurry clouds in the grey sky. Rain soon, maybe. Wouldn’t that be fitting?

He closed his eyes and felt himself spasming to get a good breath. And then there was a pressure. A deep pressure. Pressure so sharp and pointed and painful that it sent him spiraling back a month. Back to that memory. Of not being able to breath. His face growing hot, his feet kicking to find ground, and his hands clawing at that rope that was burning his skin. Before he could fully comprehend reality, his arm crashed itself into the wall, releasing that pressure.

Slowly, Chase started trying to breath again. He turned to his right to see a shiny blob in his hands. Delicately lifting his left hand, he brushed his fingers over that area. Small. It was small. Even through puffy eyes that couldn’t stand the thought of being open, he forced himself to watch as his arm tossed the metal far away. “GodDammit!” he croaked out, before going back to his fetal position. Small thunder rolls could be heard in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I've been trying to write more, and one way I'm doing that is by making backstory for this AU. It's called These Hands of Mine: Lost Chapters and I'm posting it here on AO3. They're short snippets (I'm literally just opening a text document at 10pm and writing until I get a small scene finished), but I think that the more that I make, the richer this AU becomes. It won't include anything relevant to this plot, but it will hopefully help you get a better view of how I see these characters in this AU.  
> But anyway, hope you enjoyed the angst :)


	11. Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How's Henrik coping in all of this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: hospital, blood, trauma

The office was quiet. Not that it was new, but it had felt worse the past few days. There was so much paperwork and charts and patient plans Schneep needed to look over, but today he was especially terrible at getting a start on it. The occasional sting from the cuts of his face felt like nothing now, but he found himself wishing he’d injured his hand as well. At least then he’d have a reason to feel this much pain.

Tired soaked into his bones from the lack of sleep. Nightmares tormenting him every night now, making him wake in a cold sweat. It would have been better if they’d stayed in his subconscious, but he dragged the dread into his daily life now.

Schneep hadn’t worked up the courage to face Jackie since they’d brought him to the hospital. Chase had accused him of not caring about their brother’s well-being. But that wasn’t true. With his super healing, any regular doctor would have been suspicious. Maybe they would have questioned his identity. Maybe they would have tried to keep him under observation for tests, or do  _ studies _ on him. Henrik shivered at the thoughts. He’d seen enough  _ experiments _ already. Enough suffering. Even an iota of a chance of that happening was far too great for Henrik to risk.

Sighing, Schneep leaned back into his chair, letting his head fall back so he was staring at the ceiling of his office. But his reasons didn’t matter at this point. He’d seen Jackie’s weary state, his x-rays, lab results. There wasn’t much point in trying to justify his actions to anyone. Hindsight always was 20/20. 

Perhaps he should have done something sooner. Tried to do more than just bandage the trauma and wait and hope it would resolve. All his past experiences had told him that was enough though. Maybe he focused too much on Jackie losing feeling in his hands and neglected that his body wasn’t working as it should. No, he’d been doing regular check-ins. But there was no protocol on this. He was doing the best he could with the knowledge he had.

There was no fever, so maybe Schneep had been diligent enough that he wasn’t suffering from an infection. But how much sooner would he have been moving on his feet if he’d brought him in a day sooner? If he’d figured something was askew when Jackie’s cuts hadn’t fully healed over after that first night? If he’d been a better doctor instead of a brother? All the ifs spinning around in his head, making the ceiling seem to spin too.

Closing his eyes, Schneep took a deep breath in, feeling his diaphragm expand all the way out, then back in. “Don’t go spinning your head off.” The words were stupid, but had the same effect they always did. Could feel his heartbeat slowing in his chest. “You did the best with what you knew at the time.” His colleague’s voice rang in his ears.  _ You can’t change this, but you can make sure it never happens again _ . Henrik smiled a little, recalling how  _ Those who cannot take the past’s knowledge will learn by living it _ . Walt may not have been the most articulate all the time in English (hell, he was probably a wordsmith in his native German) but the man knew how war could harden and cripple a person. And he’d refused to let that happen to Henrik. It didn’t prevent Henrik from experiencing literal hell, but it did give him that one stupid, soothing saying. “Don’t go spinning your head off.”

Schneep leaned forward again, placing his hands on the desk. Jackie was getting the help he needed now. And if he wasn’t his doctor, he was sure as hell going to be his big brother and help him through this. If nothing, Jackie wouldn’t have to deal with all this alone. 

Just as he’d resolved to meet Jackie, there was a rap-tap-tapping on his door. Schneep barely got a chance to look at the dark mahogany before it was replaced with a woman’s figure in the light. “Dr. Schneeplestein? We need you in the ER. Multi-car pile-up, it’s all hands on deck.” Looks like seeing his brother would have to wait. And from the sound of it, he’d be in the pit or in the OR for a while. Maybe he’d go visit Jackie at the end of his shift.

The ER was a madhouse. Aches and moans, blood anywhere you looked. For a split second, he was back in the tent, working in the mud and filth. But he was in the ER, and he had people he could help here. First case, young man, late twenties. There were glass fragments embedded in his chest, arms, and face. X-rays showed a butterfly fracture in his right tibia, cracked ribs, and shattered wrist fragments on the ipsilateral side. The foot turning an ashen pale told him there was little to no blood flow. There were signs of abdominal swelling, possibly internal bleeding, and he had to keep a close eye out for compartment syndrome. Schneep paused and glanced at the man, haggard and scared. But through the messy hair and the bloody face, he saw his little brother, broken and scared. Fully facing the man, the imagery disappeared. Schneep shook the illusion from his head. This wasn’t Jackie. He’d get it right this time.

First, decompress the leg. One, two, *yelp* three. The foot started pinking up, so at least there was blood flow. Next, abdominal bleeding. Gentle palpitations, and the man was wincing, fighting to not yell and make a scene. “We need to get him to an OR,” Schneep ordered his assisting doctor. “Don’t worry,” he was soft, like this man was actually Jackie. “I’ve got you.” Suddenly, the man was gripping Schneep’s arm. So tight, like this arm was the only thing keeping him alive. 

“I don’t want to die. Please don’t let me die.” Tears ran down, turning red as they drifted past the cuts on his face.

“I’ll do my best.” That was the only promise Schneep could keep. 

In the scrub room, he kept glancing up at the man. Trauma was never routine, but it felt that way to Schneep. But this patient. . . nothing felt normal or routine right now. His brain kept making comparisons to Jackie, flashing back to the worst traumas he’d dealt with, his mentor’s voice echoing in his head.  _ Loss was a part of the job, and sometimes inevitable, and it was his job to learn and not make the same mistakes again. It wasn’t always his fault, and that surgery was like being a mechanic. No attachment would make it easier to focus. _ Focus. Focus on properly scrubbing. There were specs of black dirt on his arms. Rubbing furiously, he tried to get them off, but they didn’t move. Spots in his vision. Moving black spots in his vision. His brain started getting hot, but Henrik just ran his arms under the cold water. No, he had a job to do. Squeezing his eyes tight, he tried to make the black go away. They started fading. Maybe he was just dehydrated. He’d have to worry about that later though. He wouldn’t waste time rescrubbing just because he was hot, or, feeling a little, fog in the brain. Schneep felt his center start to drift to the side, but cemented himself in place. No, he was needed. Maybe he’d have to go a little slower, but he was good, he’d make it work. No way some minor head pain would get in the way of helping his brother– Patient! God, why could his brain not get this right?


	12. Wednesday Words

Wednesday nights were always his favourite nights. The country club he worked at always had a late night Ritzy act or band that would supply the entertainment after 8pm. Even so, Jameson would still be getting home near 10:30 every night. For that long gap, he’d always be working out what he should say to Emma. More so, work up the nerve for more than just the common pleasantries that is. He always helped her clean up after her shift was over, and accompanied her out the entrance every night, and wished her a goodnight.

Despite his experience, Jameson did what he could to talk himself down. Say that it was just a crush, that he wasn’t in love, that they were just work colleagues. It was never a good idea to put someone on a pedestal because everyone had their flaws. But sometimes she’d start talking about her real life. About her cat, about the places she wanted to travel, about the painting that she was currently working, or about how she had bigger plans for her life than just bartending. She’d always said he was a good listener, unlike a lot of other people she knew. In truth, he would listen to her talk all night if he could. Because every little bit of information she rambled off only made him more interested in spending time with her. Yes he could tell she was attractive, but nothing could compare to the light she got in her eyes and the inadvertent smile and the sparkle in her voice. He just... never had the nerve to tell her how beautiful she was.

Maybe it was the nagging fear of how terribly his last crush ended. Maybe it was fear that she’d misinterpret his words. Maybe he was too afraid that it would ruin their relationship at the moment. Letters, every Wednesday night. Trying to find the correct wording, always ending up in his jacket pocket, and being deposited into his trash bin at home.

Tonight though, he didn’t get the luxury of churning over how to tell Emma that he liked her. Tonight, he was too preoccupied with the people he already knew he loved and loved him back. Henrik had gone quiet silent ever since his stay in hospital. The doctor had assured Jameson that his absence was merely exhaustion and a lot of tough cases at the moment, but it couldn’t have been just that. Perhaps he was going through, what was it Henrik called them,  episodes of relapse .There had been no night terrors, like usually happened, luckily. But there seemed to be extra weight on him when he walked anywhere in the house. And his mind always seemed to be somewhere else whenever Jameson would try to strike up a conversation. Of the talks Jameson did manage to engage in, the despondence and dragging in his voice couldn’t be masked. Even if it was something as simple as choosing a show to watch. Jameson wished he knew of ways to help Henrik, but his eldest brother always seemed to magically get “fixed” after having a particularly life-saving day at work. Still, there was a desire to help more than just “waiting out the storm.”

Chase had been doing. . . better. Getting out of the house more, and maybe even jovial most mornings. Of course, Jameson only got to hear the chap rushing around his room before Chase was off for the day. But sometimes, he’d hear Chase through the walls, crying in his sleep. There hadn’t been any lunch texts from him either, not that Jameson ever really enforced them on Chase. The thought remained though, was Chase actually doing better going out? If he was hanging out with his mates, why was he so sad? And was he still doing his mantras and remembering to eat? Jameson had brought Chase dinner last night, but found it barely half eaten this afternoon. He didn’t know what was going on, if these were the same troubles or new ones, but he needed to talk with someone, even if that someone wasn’t Jameson.

Finally, there was Jackie. It was a relief to know that he was just on assignment, but it wasn’t like Jackie to just ghost him like this. Leaving without saying goodbye in person. He had been a bit more distant these past few weeks as well, but Jameson had just thought it to be exhaustion from all the work he was doing. The man even changed his sleeping patterns so he slept partially at night and partially in the noontime, just to try and help more citizens at what he called “the critical night hours.” Hopefully Jackie wasn’t running himself ragged. Jameson drew out his phone and sent Jackie a quick photo of a puppy dog, just to let him know he was thinking of him.

It never was easy to bring up any of these hard topics. The lot of them usually tried to change the subject when he brought things up. Recent times had seen more issues though. Perhaps his family had been infected by an invisible plague of silence, or bad luck, or misfortune as of late. But, where there was darkness, there had to also be light. There was always light if his family was together.

A strong hand landed on Jameson’s shoulder, making him jump in the air. “Hello there chap!” A voice boomed from behind him. Jameson turned his gaze towards this person interrupting his thoughts. His eyes grew wide at the impossible. This man looked exactly like Jackie. The face shape, the sparkle in his blue eyes, the slight curve in the bridge of his nose, even the small smirk in his smile. But, the longer Jameson gazed, the more he realized this wasn’t his brother. There wasn’t a scar going through his left eyebrow. The man’s facial hair was far more well groomed. And his hair was longer with strands coloured a deep purple. Jameson felt himself sink down, disheartened that this wasn’t the man he wanted to see.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, I just wonder if I could speak with you for a moment.” Jameson raised his eyebrow curiously, enough so the man could understand his confusion. He may have looked like his brother, but that was where the friendliness ended. Either the man was thick or just determined, because he took the seat beside Jameson with such a swagger, as though he’d been invited to the conversation. He got the feeling this man invited himself into people’s lives a lot. Jameson kept his eyes trained on this man; something about him just didn’t feel quite right. The man seemed right at home though, lazily sitting back in his chair as he faced Jameson.

“I was hired to be a matchmaker here. Management thought it might make some of the guests...” The man gazed around the room, making Jameson’s eyes wander too. Nothing exceptionally unique about tonight. “Happier,” the man concluded, turning his attention back to Jameson. “And, well, I think you could be of use in that endeavor.” Jameson wasn’t giving an inch. Instead of signing with his hands, he folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. This man seemed so entitled, like Jameson was just a service to be used. “Ah, I see you have your doubts. But let me explain.”

The man laid his hands on the table and started moving them in tandem with his speech; talking with his hands without actually talking with them. “See, all I would need you to do is change up your tunes to something, brighter. Or some old-fashioned love songs. Something to subconsciously make people feel something ...” His hands started spinning round each other and for a moment Jameson thought he saw green sparks start swirling around with them. “To feel unwittingly joyful.” That was putting it mildly. Get them ‘in the mood’ or horny was probably more what he wanted to say (not that his songs could create such feelings). But, Jameson appreciated the politeness with the subject. “And I know that it would take time to change over and learn something new, and you’re thinking why bother? Well, I can offer you a trade of services. You change your set, and I can offer you my services, free of charge.”

Now, Jameson was generally a nice man. He probably would have added some new songs into his set if asked nicely. After all, it was kinda fun to learn something new. But hearing that this man would set him up with someone, that made him drop his stoneface. Match-making. Someone who worked to set you up with someone you could love. The thought both excited and terrified him. Because what if this man could actually do that, but what if it just ended horribly? Jameson had a front row seat to the destruction of each one of his brother’s romantic relationships. And that was only long term. He’d already known the pain of short term humiliation and did not end to relive it again.

“Or,” the man’s suave voice drew Jameson back to reality, “if you don’t want the full-on match-making, I can simply provide dating tips, in case you already have a special someone in your eye.” Jameson’s eyes darted over to the bar. Emma was swarmed with patrons, but he could still see the swing of her ponytail as she worked furiously to keep them all happy. Yes, he wanted to be closer to her. Did he want to date her? Possibly. Did he love her? He wouldn’t use that word. What he would say is that he valued his time with her and enjoyed her company. Maybe it would be worth his time to listen to this man. Maybe he could help with Jameson’s dilemma. 

“Do we have a deal?” Jameson looked at this man, this not-Jackie man. And the longer he stared, the more he felt a strange pull, almost like a compulsion to trust him. Green sparkles appeared around him, making him dazzle, like he was a shining beacon of hope. And in that moment, all Jameson could see was Jackie. Someone who would help him, protect him, be there for him. Jameson felt his hand rise and extend forward. As soon as the man grasped it, the spell was broken and he was back to the dapper matchmaker. Had a good handshake too. Strong, just like Jackie... “Good man! Let’s get started, shall we?”


	13. Empty Spaces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((lead up)) It’s been a rough for Jackie. Chase walked out on him, Henrik has all but abandoned him, and he can’t bear to tell Jameson anything. The only comfort he’s taking right now is the fact that he can sleep. Unlike reality, his sleep is no longer tormented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit 1: 1/15/21 Henrik says that _he will always support Jackie_

Spaces between bouts of consciousness were less defined recently. That reality was undoubtedly helped by the morphine fogging his brain and lulling him to sleep. Secondly, he’d noticed his cat friend had given up haunting him. Maybe haunting wasn’t correct though. Maybe he was just a nightmare Jackie had conjured up to torture himself. In any case, his sleepy mind was no longer plagued; it wasn’t filled with lilacs and lavender and sweet dreams either, but a neutral nothing was good enough, even normal.

Waking up was always sudden and his internal clock was thrown out of whack. Had to rely on lighting clues (which, all in all, wasn’t the worst thing). This time, the room was dark, shades down, door closed with light peering out from the crack beneath it. Nighttime then. Had he slept most the day? He’d been so upset when Chase left, but then he got dragged off to see the physical therapist. Couldn’t concentrate on anything and he’d got back to his room. Slipping his hands under his pillow, Jackie had laid his head down and stared at the door, waiting for his brother to return. Chase always returned, every time. Didn’t matter how big or stupid a spat they’d had. Maybe Jackie was stupid for not telling Chase that he appreciated the company to pass the time.

Regaining feeling in his body, Jackie sat up immediately realizing his hands weren’t where he left them. They were on his sides. And there was someone gripping his left wrist. Snapping his arm back, the grip slid down from his wrist to his fingers. Sounds of shifting were accompanied by the dragging of the object across and then off of his hand. The shadowy outline of the stranger's head rose from Jackie's bed as the man sat back in the chair. “Who are you?” Jackie meant for it to be more menacing, but his voice was still waking up.

“Sorry.” There was a long sniff and some sort of motion in the dark. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” It _sounded_ like Henrik, but the words didn’t have that gruffness to them. The figure moved from his spot and headed towards the door. Then the room was washed out with bright light. Jackie’s arms jerked up to shield his eyes from the offensive change.

Slowly adjusting, Jackie let down his arms, but kept them at his sides, still on guard. They eventually relaxed once he recognized the intruder. The glasses in front of those grey-blue eyes, the disheveled brown hair. Lips sealed together and shoulders squared off, despite not being at full attention. Fingertips pressed one against another so his hands made a V (pointing down towards his shoes at the moment). The green patterned scrub cap loosely hanging out of his coat pocket. But even if he was the same man as ever, he didn’t feel the same. Something was. . . Jackie couldn’t put his finger on it. Henrik had long days, tough days, days where he lost patients and grieved them, but this felt like something beyond that. Beyond the empathy doctors should have for their patients.

“What happened?”

The tired doctor shuffled back over to the chair and slumped down in it. “I uh, I lost a patient,” Henrik sniffled. “Was my fault too.” Wiping away the snot from his nose, he continued. “His um,” deep breath in and on the exhale, “he had similar injuries to you. And I couldn’t– ... I just...” his hands covered the entirety of his face. Fingers curling and pulling against his hair, palms scrunched, and an exacerbated groan of frustration. Lifting his palms from his face, Schneep faced his brother again, a tear sliding down. More resolve, as always happened when Henrik paused himself, but he just looked more tired and haggard now. Maybe his brother was tired of putting on a brave face. “I’m sorry I didn’t do enough. And that I didn’t bring you in sooner. Get you a proper doctor.” With a heavy sigh, Henrik let his posture go and leaned back into the chair. He was done talking for now, whether he had nothing left to say or couldn’t bear to say more. That ability to bite his tongue always kept Henrik from starting fights, a quality Jackie envied. Right now though, it was a hurdle.

Jackie was soft and slow. Emphasizing the meaning of the words to be sure Henrik felt them. “You, can’t change what happened, Henrik. And you’re still a good doctor. You and I both know we can’t save everyone. ...” Jackie would have continued on, but Henrik was shifting in his chair, leaning forward now.

“And it is my job to learn and not make the same mistakes.” It was almost comforting to hear the monotone nature of his voice. Let Jackie know Henrik understood, that he was already working on it. And with this particular mantra, that he’d reminded himself of this fact a thousand and one times over. “I know, I know,” Henrik lamented, tiredly waving his hand before leaning more over his knees. Of course he knew. Henrik always seemed to know the right thing. Ten years older and so so much more life experience than Jackie. With everything he’d done or been through, it made it easy to trust that Henrik knew what he was talking about.

But what now then? Jackie couldn’t go to sleep and he couldn’t comfort Henrik. Were they just supposed to sit there in silence? No, there was already too much of that. And then it struck him like a speeding train. “Have you seen Chase today?”

“No, I uh, I’ve been tied up in other things.” Henrik couldn’t even fully meet Jackie’s gaze.

“Still avoiding each other then.” That was far more accusatory than he thought.

Henrik exhaled. “I’ll let him have his thoughts. It’s not much bother how much he hates me. He’s still my little brother.” He lurched forward and started tossling Jackie’s hair. “Just like you, little rascal you.” There was another sniffle. Hopefully a happier one.

“He-hey,” Jackie laughed, “cut it out.” He playfully batted Henrik’s hand away with his forearm. It was good to laugh a bit. Even better to see Henrik flash a smile. Laughter was always good medicine. But Jackie had to sober up and circle back. “I’m worried about him, Henrik.”

That smile faded as Henrik was grounded back in present times. “I’m always worried about him. All of you idiots really.” His fingers were interlaced and resting comfortably in that doctor-like manner in his lap. He was staring at his brother, not completely meeting eyes.

“That’s not what I mean.” Jackie waited for Henrik to meet his eye line. “I really upset him earlier today. Maybe, maybe even triggered him. I don’t know exactly. But he hasn’t been back. I hope that he’s just angry with me and at home, avoiding me. But I got a bitter feeling...”

Henrik closed his eyes and nodded slowly. Opening them, the weariness and dull sheen was apparent. His shoulders sunk down and he let his chest fall. “Jameson and I will work with Chase for now. You just focus on getting healthy enough to come back home. We’ll get back to normal soon.”

 _Normal_. Jackie was growing to hate the word to describe his life at this point. He was never normal. _His_ normal was never normal. And he’d experience a trauma. Even when his bones healed, he could never go back to his normal. ‘Normal’ for him was an all-consuming job. Time to just be Jackie. “Might be a good idea to search for a job with a lower injury rate, huh?” he quipped, a one-sided smile trying to make it seem like he was joking.

“Would certainly be handy,” Henrik responded in that condescending tone. It was blatantly obvious Henrik hated Jackie’s being a superhero, even though he was too proud to say it in front of Jackie. “But,” but? “if this is what you want to do, and you enjoy it, I can’t stop you. You make your choices and have to be responsible enough to take the consequences.”

 _Right support at the wrong time, Henrik._ Jackie physically knocked the thought out (small motions, so as not to alert him though). This was the best Henrik knew. Jackie had been mulling over the idea of retiring himself the past week, and only seconds ago actually decided to hang up his cape. Much less the reason behind the change. Hadn’t even told him– told anyone– that he nearly died.

The late hours of the night (and wee hours of the morning) had lowered his inhibitions. Something about the darkness feeling like an all-consuming void. Almost comforting that things could happen and the events and thoughts would be swallowed and forgotten with the rising sun. His brain itched at an old memory, far back in his childhood, but it settled on him staring up at the moon, walking home that night.

Jackie was staring at the ceiling, like he was trying to stare straight through to the stars above. “You know I love you, right Henrik?” There was movement out of the corner of his eyes, but Jackie wouldn’t shift. Looking up... things just felt easier to say aloud. “We don’t say that enough to each other, all of us. I mean, I know it’s there, but it just...” Jackie felt his wrists spinning in circles around each other, imitating the swirling thoughts in his head. He finally stopped, laying his hands on his stomach and leaning back into the bed, keeping his eyes fixed on the ceiling and corkboard holes.

Henrik remained silent, probably silently judging him, like always. Always a bit off, and too out there, and too open sometimes. Jackie had grown fond of those traits of his though. “I nearly died that night. Nearly didn’t wake up to drag myself home. But I just kept wanting to get back to see you guys. And I was so scared that I wouldn’t get the chance again.” He could feel his throat start to choke, but he cleared it before pushing through. Tears formed and dripped. “I think I– I... I want to quit. Because you guys,” he had to sniff and muzzle down the snot, “You guys are what matters most to me.”

Jackie mustered the courage to lift his head up, needing to see his brother’s face. Henrik wasn’t crying, not like Jackie. Not dumbfounded in shock and guilt and dread. His face grew rounded as a smile crept up his face. Henrik reached out, cupping Jackie’s palm with both his hands, and squeezed. Jackie felt the subtle change in pressure. “I'll always support you Jackie.”

Without thinking, Jackie threw himself at his brother, a strange cry of joy escaping his lungs. Didn’t matter that his body ached or that he was leaning so far over the bed or that he was a mess. Jackie buried his head in Henrik’s shoulder and his arms naturally found their way to hugging Henrik. One of Henrik’s hands remained stationary on Jackie’s back; the other kept gently stroking Jackie, moving in small circles on his back.

Henrik was so warm. It was hard to remember the last time he had been this vulnerable with his big brother and Henrik was this loving and welcoming. Far back, before he decided to be a superhero, before he realized he even had powers, before the accident, before high school. When he first faced death, when their dad died. Back before Henrik was tough and hardened, before there were walls, before he had to take care of them all. When Henrik was simply his biggest brother. When Henrik could make the hurt go away. Jackie squeezed Henrik’s coat and cried even harder. He missed his brother, really missed him. His fingers scrunched up even harder, not wanting to let Henrik go.

“Jackie?” Jackie nuzzled Henrik’s shoulder, giving a sort of yes without leaving his comfort. “Can I see your hands for a sec?” No, he didn’t want to ruin one of the best moments he was having just for Henrik to play doctor. He could feel his hands balling into fists trying to hold on with all his strength as he fervently shook his head. “They– they work. Your hands work.” Reluctantly, Jackie pulled back and Schneep immediately took hold of his wrists. “Squeeze.” Looking down at the bandages, Jackie gave his fingers the direction, imagined he was back squeezing Henrik. And lo and behold, they started staggering forward towards his palm. The muscles making the motion, the small bit of pressure upon land-fall, the roughness and texture of the bandaging — he felt it all, every single bit of it.

Henrik started laughing in amazement, giddy, maybe even hysterical. Jackie couldn’t even muster more than a chuckle or two while the corners of his mouth grew into the widest smile. He was getting better, he was _actually_ getting better! Henrik quickly kissed his forehead before pulling back. The two just stared at each other, mouths open in amazement, grinning ear to ear, life filling eyes that had seen far too much horror celebrating the tiniest — and yet largest — victory.

“I– I have to–” Jackie’s hands landed on the bed as Henrik rushed out of his room, taking Jackie’s smile with him. Looking back at his hands, there wasn’t that fiery warmth to them anymore. Everything felt just a little colder now that Henrik had gone away. Didn’t matter about his hands right now, he just wanted to be held by his brother, hold his brother, just...

Grabbing his top pillow, Jackie moved it to the side, wrapping his arms around until it was covering his entire chest. Laying his head down on the second, colder pillow, he tried to close his eyes and get back to the peace he’d felt only a few minutes ago. He squeezed the pillow tighter, his hands clenching the sides. A small smile crept up despite how dejected he felt. Today had been very eventful indeed. But at least it ended better than how it began.


	14. Emotional Balance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((lead up)) Henrik doesn’t get ‘happy’ or ‘joyous’ often. There’s always something to get in the way of just a pure sweet moment. But when Jackie moved his fingers, that was one of the best things he experienced in a long time.

Naturally, Schneep’s life had to have a balance of emotions in it. But in the good moments, Henrik never thought to remember that fact.

To see that Jackie still trusted him enough to tell him that secret. To feel the curl of Jackie’s fingers. To know that his brother was going to recover was more than enough to send Henrik flying (metaphorically of course).

This revelation couldn’t wait until morning; he had to tell the night nurse the exciting news. Even forgot his composure in all the excitement. Only when she’d said “Doctor?” in that  _ what nonsense are you spouting _ voice did Henrik take a pause and a few deep breaths.

“Jackie. He’s, he’s got controlled motor function in his hands. It’s amazing!”

There was a moment where her eyes opened wider, but then she was better at keeping herself under control than Henrik. “That’s great news, and I’m sure Dr. Hart will want to run tests with him tomorrow morning, but right now, I think Jackie just needs to rest Dr. Schneeplestein. He’s had a long day at physical therapy and I hear they had a terror of a time changing his bandages today.”

“No, but–” Henrik glanced at the nurse’s badge, “Jacklyn, you don’t understand. His hands work. They really work! Come, look for yourself!” Henrik took a couple of steps to Jackie’s room, beckoning Jacklyn. But she just stayed at her station behind the counter.

“I’m sure it’s big for you, Dr. Schneeplestein. But, as I said it can wait until morning. You and your brother  _ both _ need some rest. I promise you, I will  _ personally _ inform Dr. Hart about his improvement. So please, go home. And rest.”

Henrik huffed in disagreement, but it was never a good idea to cross a nurse. Obeying her, Henrik set off for his office, taking the stairs to get rid of some of this... anger that had started boiling in him. Why was he even angry? This was joyous! Jackie was healing and he would be able to come home soon! He could finally tell Jamie some good news about their brother instead of trying to avoid the subject entirely.

One step into his office and Henrik fully came down from his high. There was a phone sitting in the middle of his desk. Not just any phone though. One with a grey and green case, covered in scratches and the tiniest carvings. Made it easy to recognize, especially when turned over.  _ How’d that get here? _ Henrik moved to the other side of the desk in such an odd manner, like he was trying to stay away from the thing like it was a bomb and one wrong move would set it off.

Picking the phone up, Henrik scrunched his face, trying to gleam any clues as to its sudden appearance. None appeared. Diving deeper, Henrik tapped to light up the screen. Battery was just above 90%. He hadn’t used it. Could’ve meant that it had been here a long time, or it could have been that Chase wasn’t glued– no, it had been here a while. Drawing the unlock pattern, Henrik found himself staring at a conversation, messages to him. The last one reading “Talk to Jackie please.” Sent at 11:14 am. Reaching into his pocket, Henrik took out his phone. Illuminating his own screen, there was the shining notification, gone unnoticed in the earlier chaos.

Sighing, Henrik slipped both phones into his briefcase. He gathered some more papers from his desk and piled them in too before sealing everything up. Opening the top drawer, he took his wallet and keys. Hanging up his white coat, he took one last stock of the room before turning off the lights and fully closing and locking his office door. “Chase...” Henrik said, shaking his head as his hand left the door handle. The man never was clear, especially when he was upset. Expressing emotions clearly and in a healthy manner had to be added to the long list of things Henrik needed to re-teach his brother.

In the elevator though, Henrik took a few breaths, trying to re-center. “Jackie’s gonna be alright.” Henrik turned his gaze downward, simultaneously raising his free right hand until it was a mere six inches from his face. His fingers curled halfway into a hollow fist, then slowly went back to their neutral position. He dropped his hand as the elevator dinged and opened up to the bottom floor. Shame that he wasn’t smiling anymore. Would have been such a nice day if he could walk out of the hospital smiling, satisfied with the fact that he hadn’t killed his brother and that in fact, he was recovering far faster than he ever thought possible.

When Henrik got back to their house, it was a miracle that Jameson was still up, eating what was probably a bowl of cereal on the couch. Jameson turned his attention from the television to Henrik, who promptly nodded, allowing Jameson to get back to his program. From the sound of it, it was one of those prime-time drama shows. Henrik never much cared for them, but it was impossible to deny that parts of them just drew you in.

Grabbing his tin of chocolate covered pretzels, Henrik scooched next to his brother. He knew he should have been heading upstairs, brushing his teeth, getting ready for bed, but this felt better. More right. They munched away, both seemingly captivated by the secrets unfolding on TV. Two seconds into the unskippable commercial and Jameson had already muted the device. Jameson tapped Henrik’s shoulder twice, waiting for him to turn his gaze before signing, “Is everything alright?”

Henrik stopped chewing and swallowed the large chunks of pretzels. Took a second before he was ready to speak. “I, guess it is.” Jackie would be coming home soon. Maybe the next few days. He still hadn’t told Jameson anything about it. It was going to be a nightmare coming up with a cover story for Jackie. “Why you ask?”

Now it was Jameson’s turn taking a thinking pause. “You... hate this show.” His hands were slower than normal, and it couldn’t be because he forgot the words.

“Yes.” Seems they were at a bit of a stalemate, staring each other down. Henrik took a heavy breath and turned away, losing their staring contest. It had been a long day. Very long day. Maybe he should actually go upstairs and rest. Turning over, he rolled himself onto his feet and headed toward the kitchen with his tin. There were two bangs on wood. Henrik stopped in his tracks and debated if he should turn around or not. After too long of a beat, he decided he should respect his brother and let him talk.

Jameson’s eyebrows were furrowed and his arms were closer to his body. Shame that he couldn’t keep clenched fists when he talked. “What’s going on Henrik?” To add, Jameson placed his hand on his head and immediately threw it off in exasperation. Didn’t look like any sign Henrik knew. But by the look of disbelief in Jamie’s eyes and his slightly agape mouth, Henrik assumed he was saying  _ What the fuck bro??? _

Seems like he had no choice in this matter. “I’ve had a long day, Jameson. I just want to get to sleep.” Henrik shuffled further into the kitchen, but there were two more wood slaps. “Give me a sec to put my food away will ya!” he snapped. Knocks would have got his attention too, and been easier on the ears. Closing the pantry door revealed Jameson now standing staunchly in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed and eyes searing. His stubborn persistence made Henrik want to fume, but Jameson didn’t deserve to be raged or yelled at. He’d done nothing wrong. But the bubbling outrage did some good; it fueled Henrik to break his silence. “I lost a patient today. Alright?! Looked just like Jackie. Same build, same injuries, same  _ stupid _ hair. And I didn’t save him! And for a moment, I thought it was our brother who was dead.

“But he’s not. The bluthering idiot is fine. Resting in a goddamn hospital bed with working hands. But I can’t even stay happy about that because fucking Chase left his phone in my office! And his car isn’t here So he probably went off drinking somewhere and didn’t want us to try and call him And–” Jameson’s hands were pressed against Henrik’s cheeks, cutting his speech short. “Wut!?” Henrik fumed, though it was hard to spit out anything that conveyed his bitter feelings with a squished face.

Jameson’s eyes were darting about, looking over Henrik’s face. Henrik tried to break free, but Jameson’s hands were much stronger than his small stature gave on. His only choice was to give in to his brother’s will, waiting for release. As soon as Henrik finally sunk into his brother’s grip, Jameson tore himself away. He hurriedly staggered over to the fridge and pulled the paper pad off. Hand slightly unsteady, Henrik waited while his brother wrote. “What happened to our brothers?” It wasn’t the usual almost calligraphy style writing, but hasty, gaps where the pen didn’t have enough contact, and unpronounced aspects of characters.

Henrik hadn’t meant to upset Jameson. He’d just gotten so worked up.... “I...” No use in lying. His brother would only be hurt even more. “Jackie got in a real bad fight. He’s in the hospital right now. And Chase...” Chase needed help, proper help. “I don’t know where he is. But I don’t think he’s doing okay.” Resting his elbows on the kitchen island, Henrik bent his head down and let his hands rest on the back of his neck. He wasn’t joyful, or worried, or angry — he was just exhausted.

But that was interrupted by a yank of his arm, making his feet stumble forward to keep up with his body. “Jameson, what–” Henrik stumbled down onto the floor, accidentally taking Jameson down with him. Turning to his fallen brother, Henrik was ready to chide him for being so forceful and invasive. But Jameson was already scrambling to get back up. His chest was making big swells, like he was unable to catch a large enough breath. He reached down to help Henrik up, but the doctor was having none of it. “What are you doing?” Jameson bit his lip and started frantically pointing towards the front door. “And what do you plan to accomplish exactly?” Henrik was more concerned than upset. Jameson wasn’t in a good state right now. “You can’t visit Jackie right now, and Chase doesn’t want to be found right now. I promise you, I’ll take you in first thing tomorrow morning. And if Chase isn’t back, we can do something about it. Like I said, he’s probably just angry with me is all. He’ll turn up.” He had to look – really look – into Jameson’s eyes. “I promise. He’ll come back.”

Jameson’s arms came down, almost reaching out to Henrik. But then his hands hardened into fists and he darted up the stairs. Quick, hard, pounding steps, capped off with a door slam that rivaled Chase’s. Henrik stopped staring at the empty space left behind and turned his attention to the ground.  _ That could have gone better _ . Exhaling, Henrik got himself off the ground and tiredly turned the electronics off. Sluggishly carrying himself up the stairs, he finished his tour of bringing darkness to the house, ending at his bedroom. He barely mustered the energy to shed his work clothes before collapsing on the bed. His mind was hot, but his body felt so cold. Draping a blanket over himself, he still felt empty. Cuddling the blanket and burying his hands in his chest, Henrik tried to fall asleep. Best way to shut his mouth and not cause any more pain tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are turning much longer and in-depth than I ever originally intend. For instance, the original idea for this chapter is now spanning three chapters. So, because my brain keeps inventing and adding things, it's taking me longer to write stuff, figure out what I want out of a chapter, and edit it down. Thank you for your continued patience as I slowly make progress on this novel.


	15. The First 24 Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jameson's current reality was shattered in the span of less than a minute. His brothers in more trouble than he'd thought. What can he even do about any of this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a change. Jackie's right leg is the injured one. His left leg is fine. And for clarification, his left arm is the injured one

Jameson awoke in a hot sweat mere hours after he’d lost consciousness on his tear-stained pillow. It was simply dark, the house quiet, and the nocturnal animals barely murmuring outside. Sitting hunched over, Jameson clutched his hands over his racing heart. Blinking a few times barely helped him hold onto reality. Because whenever he closed his eyes, he just saw that nightmare again.

Unable to stop his mind, Jameson rose from his bed. With no hope of rest, he may as well start his day. Starting with a shower.

The warmth was a little too comforting. Jameson found himself drifting, closing his eyes. Which was met with the sight of Jackie being caught off guard by a barrage of bullets, being struck by lightning, struggling to catch his breath while desperately failing to swim to the surface, or being knocked unconscious and thrown off a roof. Such distressing imaginations only further split the comfort in his body with the discomfort of his mind. Turning the water frigid alerted his body away from sleep. There was an odd comfort, the matching. Only just though. He couldn’t fully relax until he saw Jackie first-hand — not dead, and with “working hands” as Henrik had put it.

It was no use reading, or cleaning, and especially not trying to play an instrument (even with the soundproofing). There were no games grabbing his attention, no television show that could keep his interest. Cooking or baking became a fruitless endeavor when no recipe seemed right and food was not a comforting thought.

Tired (both of the fatigue in his bones and the restlessness & worry manifesting in fidgeting), Jameson felt compelled to do something. Something that his brain could consider productive and be satisfied with. It would be hours until the hospital would even allow him in to see his Jackie. But that left him with his other missing brother. He was already in a fresh pair of clothing, presentable enough to go out and search.

Low levels of jazz music were barely enough to keep him alert without losing himself to the music. The water bottle he kept sipping from only served to keep his thirst at bay. He’d kept checking his phone at every red light and every stop sign, hoping to see a text or missed call instead of their last big family photo.

It was much easier to look for a car than it was to try and spot a face in the shadows of night, illuminated by partial spots of neon and street lamps. Up to what Jameson had thought were Chase’s favourite hangouts. Down to the few bars he knew about. Nothing but the stillness and occasional passing car.

Unhappy with his fruitless adventure, Jameson turned back home and barely found the motivation to drag himself inside. Too weary to do anything but lay face down into the couch, crying himself asleep, again.

It was much harder to open his eyes for a second time this morning. His brother shaking him and chiding him would have normally been enough, but not today. Making his morning tea was a far greater chore. And Jameson found himself holding his mug for a moment, just inhaling the vapors, staring into the shallow bottom tainted brown. Henrik even took tea with Jameson this morning. Today truly was a day out of place.

As much as Jameson felt ashamed of his ragged, tired appearance, his brain couldn’t muster the strength to complete the task of changing out of them. Any energy he had should go towards Jackie. Or perhaps, keeping himself composed for Jackie.

It didn’t even take a question for Henrik to offer to drive. And they were quick out the door. No briefcase, panic of packing lunch or snacks, or anything of the sort when he’d rush out to work. Jameson supposed maybe Henrik had gotten the day off or was at least granted a short reprieve to visit his brother. Surely the hospital cared about their surgeons’ sanity and health as much as their patients’.

He felt like a kid in the hospital. Being dragged around by the wrist. All these strangers in white coats and mint green scrubs briskly walking everywhere. Layout familiar, simply by being brick and mortar, but so foreign in that he felt he could get lost at one turn. Figures not even giving him a glance, making him feel so small. The smell of antiseptic only reminding him of blood and the urge to look away. Jameson could handle the office layout that held Henrik’s room on another floor. But anything past that was a trip to bear through. And especially not knowing where their destination would be, Jameson was even more cowardly. Eventually, he found himself holding desperately onto Henrik’s shoulder, like they were in a haunted house and their only solace was in each other’s touch.

Jackie’s floor was easier to handle. Rooms with doors, a central station. Order and form to it, and no horrors on display. Jameson’s grasp shifted to his brother’s hand. But even with the safer environment, Jameson couldn’t seem to catch a good breath. Walking and wandering past windowed rooms with blinds preventing them from seeing in. Suddenly, Henrik moved fast to face Jameson, blocking his path and making them collide. The hit shook Jameson back a few steps. “Jameson,” Henrik said warmly, engaging his attention. Putting hands on Jameson’s shoulders, Henrik steadied them both before continuing. “We have to be strong for Jackie. Because he needs to believe he’s okay. Okay?” Jameson nodded. There was a flash in his mind that Jackie would be covered in cuts and bruises. It was enough to send a piercing shiver down his spine. “Hey, hey.” Henrik had lowered himself, now eye level with Jameson. “You can do this. Toughest in the family, right?” Jameson didn’t know how to respond to that. All he wanted to do was see his brother was alive and breathing, no matter the terror he had endured. “Alright then.”

Henrik turned around, loosely cupping one of Jameson’s shoulders, almost guiding him. Two knocks before immediately entering. “Hey Jackie.” Much softer, almost like talking too loud would shatter him. “Jameson wanted to drop by and see how you were doing.” Henrik took a step in, allowing Jameson to see into the room.

The bulk of his attention was drawn to the unnatural hardware encasing his brother’s right leg. But even once he was over that initial beast, his eyes continued looking at the wreckage. White and beige wrappings up his entire torso. Their tendrils worming their way around his left shoulder and half-way down the entire arm. A final fashion statement, a pair of gloves made of wrappings, looking more tattered than anything else. Jameson stepped forward, wanting this to be a simple illusion, but it wouldn’t fade. Jackie had only been lying in a hospital bed once before. And even though he looked more whole and healthy now than he did back then...

This wasn’t real. Jameson stepped closer still. Jackie could heal himself, Henrik had said at least fifteen times faster than normal. A bad break would need at most a week. Any burns should have been healed almost back to normal within days. He _couldn_ ’ _t_ have any injuries keeping him in the hospital. There wouldn’t be any more broken bones or comas, or hospitals, or worrying about Jackie nearly dying. As danger-prone as Jackie was, they only had to worry about Chase and hope he’d learned the importance of safety. Dying, that was the only thing Jameson had to worry about, Jackie not dying. And Jackie had made a promise to always return, always let him know he was safe. Jameson had learned to look past the injuries and pain to just see his brother with light in his eyes. But right now. . . Jameson moved closer and Jackie’s eyes remained fixed on him as he staggered forward. . . That spark of light wasn’t shining bright anymore.

“What did Henrik tell you?” Jameson reached out and laid his hand over Jackie’s bandaged one. It didn’t feel the same. Rough texture, and not the rough Jackie had gotten from using his hands for so much and beating them up.

“Just that you were badly injured,” Henrik called from behind. Jameson tried to hold his brother’s hand. Feel the grip, and Jameson gave two small squeezes to lie and say he was okay. The little code the family had developed to put Jameson’s worries at ease. Once for no, twice for yes. “And he wanted to make sure you were okay.” There was barely any heat or spark in Jackie’s hands. No squeezes. Henrik had said they were working. Those were his exact words.

Jameson looked back at his brother, squeezing his hand softly again to try and encourage him. But Jackie just remained the same, like he didn’t even feel it.

Letting go of Jackie’s hand, Jameson didn’t know what to do, what he felt. He felt like crying. But most of all, he just felt so upset with Jackie. Where was that hero the man he’d grown into? The beacon of light and hope and safety that Jameson had come to know? For him more than for the city. If Jackie wasn’t steady...

He slapped the bed, though he had wanted to slap Jackie. Enough to draw attention to how insensitive he was being without causing him further injury. Jameson’s hands were sharp and fast as he signed. “You call me when you leave or get hurt!” Didn’t Jackie understand how worried Jameson had been for him? “One text.” Jameson huffed, waiting for that light of recognition from Jackie. He had to know how Jameson felt. Anything else was just a betrayal of their trust.

And Jackie’s lips parted. There wasn’t this large nature to it, but more appropriate for indoors. How Jameson sometimes wished Jackie spoke, but had instead grown accustomed to (maybe enjoyed) Jackie’s energy. “I’m, sorry?”

Sorry. Sorry? Jameson had to lean into his hand on the bed to stay steady. Knowing Jackie, he probably was as sincere as he could be. But this. . . it was more than just a broken promise. Jackie didn’t always say when he was hurt, but he’d always say he would bounce back. He didn’t always say when he’d be back, but he said he’d be going.

And maybe Henrik had known this whole time and that’s why he’d been so distant from him. And Jackie obviously had enough confidence to tell Chase, but not him?

If Jackie didn’t have enough trust to talk to Jameson, he wouldn’t let himself cry. Not in front of Jackie at least. Jameson fled the room, shoving Henrik aside on his way out. Safe spot, safe space. Jameson went into the bathroom. Clean. Uniform. Normal. He bent over a sink to splash water onto his face. Looking at his reflection, Jameson saw his pale and red and slightly ashen skin. He could feel his eyes brimming with water, but they wouldn’t cry out. His face had already burned through the water he’d placed on it.

Barely able to catch a breath, but all Jameson wanted to do was scream. Let his emotions out. He was angry with Jackie for not being careful. Not telling him anything. Angry with Chase for running off without a word as well. Angry with Henrik that he made him fear Jackie was near death. But those only bubbled over into intensity. Insane relief that Jackie was actually just bandaged and still intact. Fear that Chase would hurt himself again if left to his own devices too long. Worried about Henrik’s mental capacity, trying to keep them all safe and sound. And just a head-spinning exhaustion from it all. The lack of sleep, the emotional turmoil, the hospital. Jameson found himself on the floor. Crying at last. Because he wasn’t okay, and as much as it seemed recovery was underway, Jackie wasn’t okay either — nobody was okay.

It wasn’t long before Henrik found him sputtering out in pain. He wasn’t the one Henrik should have been comforting. What Jameson wouldn’t do for one of those warm Jackie hugs. Not that he could get – would even deserve – one right now. This was all messed up right now.

Henrik had to carefully guide Jameson out and convince him to eat the hospital’s bland cafeteria food. Rather, get them two trays of food and sit as Jameson stared down at it. Henrik insisting that, “you need to eat. You can’t think right if you don’t eat right.” The only thing Jameson took freely was the water bottle.

Amazing that Henrik wasn’t pissed at him for treating Jackie terribly. Maybe he would try to take them back after guilting him to eat more than half a piece of toast. True, Jameson did need to apologize, but he knew he couldn’t do that in person. Not right now. But Jackie didn’t deserve waiting until Jameson came to terms and got his emotions under control.

Jameson gently tapped twice on the table in front of Henrik’s plate to grab his attention. “Can I buy Jackie something?” A stuffed bear would be a better companion.

And they had the niftiest surprises too. Different colored ribbons tied around their necks, and a place for a little card. Small, not enough for a full letter. But enough for a good line or two. _I’m sorry I got mad at you._ He would have written ‘glad you’re okay,’ but neither part of it was true. _I eagerly await when you can come home_. Henrik got the sending of the bear sorted before the two of them left that building of pain.

Time passed. Not at a regular tempo, but a beat with the strangest allegros and adagios. At one point, he’d passed out on the couch, feeling hours slipped past when it had been a meager twenty minutes. Or working at finding a snack for fifteen minutes when it should have only been two. Eating only a couple of chips before his stomach hated the idea of food. Water. Had to stay hydrated. Not realizing that Henrik had left or for how long. 

His brain reminded him of work that would come in the next hours. In no world could he perform now. Crafting an email, Jameson sent it off in the hopes that his boss would understand that he needed this time. The response wasn’t quick (or was it?), but it was curt. Of course he’d be upset his performer wasn’t there. Obligations and strings pulling him in all sorts of directions. And why couldn’t Jackie just be safe and healed and home? Why wouldn’t Chase open up with them about his concerns instead of isolating himself in the most destructive ways possible? There were frays and rips in their family fabric that no one else seemed to see or care were unraveling. Why couldn’t they just all be together and happy? What had changed to make them all so distant from each other? Jameson hadn’t realized that he was tearing up until a drop fell upon his hand. Looking down, he just felt upset at everything going on around him, in his head, and everything here was just so calm. Launching a throw pillow across the floor didn’t release anything. His body and mind held him back from making the chaos he felt a reality. Curling his legs towards his chest, Jameson laid his head down and just sat in the darkness.

The television had been turned on by Henrik at some point. Jameson just sat frozen. Silence parted with the utterance, “Jackie is coming home. Most likely tomorrow afternoon.” Jameson was supposed to respond, do something to acknowledge. Caring took enough effort though. “He’ll be on crutches. No going up stairs, yet. Figure we could fix up the couch for him.” There was a small nod as it sank in. Without feeling it, Jameson headed upstairs to the linen closet, picking out Jackie’s favourite sheet set and the extra pillow. Before heading down, he went to Chase’s room. Door closed, but not locked. Jameson hesitantly opened it, turning on the light. Same empty mess. He erased his intrusion and went back downstairs.

Dinner was an ordeal. The silence from the two quietest men of the house rang so true. Jameson had taken to keeping a pad on hand now. Words came out better on paper anyway. Henrik seemed to stare at it while he ate. Meanwhile, Jameson was just moving his macaroni around the bowl. He’d take a bite every now and again to please his watchful big brother, but it wasn’t nourishing. His hand had a thought and finally used the pad, possibly pressured by the onlooker.

His hand dragged for longer than it should have, but his penmanship only suffered minor streaks of ink. Two lines.

_Chase isn’t here.___.__.__

_I think we need to go to the police_

Jameson turned it towards Henrik, though that seemed unnecessary. Henrik had already been intently focused on the paper, probably reading upside down. “I’m sure Chase is fine, Jameson. You know him. Likes to be dramatic to draw attention.” Henrik took a sip, and Jameson seized the moment to start writing, reclaiming the conversation. 

_He’s probably hurt and in pain._

_I don’t want him to end up like Jackie._

Jameson only fully processed what he wrote after his hand finished. Oh god, what if Chase got mugged and was bleeding out in an alley?

“I can promise you, he’s fine.”

Jameson’s eyes shot up at Henrik, looking him in the eye because how could he say that? How could he be so nonchalant about Chase’s situation? Unless this was just more hiding things from him. Jameson could feel his heart sinking the longer he looked at Henrik. His brother had grown tough and hard through the years, but he didn’t know it was this bad. “Oh, stop looking at me like that will ya?” Henrik turned to his left, breaking gaze with Jameson. Maybe he would have to worry enough for the both of them. Maybe he’d try and turn energy towards trying to pray for Chase’s– all of their safety.

Jameson stood up with his bowl to head for the kitchen. Nothing more could come from the table. “Wait,” Henrik hesitated, gripping Jameson’s arm to prevent him from moving past. Head down, Henrik muttered on, “I’ll go first thing tomorrow. You just focus on Jackie and I’ll do Chase.” Letting go, Jameson walked away, catching an afterthought, “Police don’t even do anything until the 48 hour mark.” Sighing, Jameson got out the cling wrap from under the sink. He couldn’t do what Henrik said. His family was in crisis. Which meant he was in crisis. And he would worry about _all_ of them until he could safely hold them all in his arms again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, i'm apparently updating weekly now (though these are not really scheduled, so please don't hold me to this). But, I am writing far more what i'm calling "accidental" scenes, which only means more content for you guys! Unfortunately, they are unplanned because my characters decide to run off and having conversations and breakdowns all on their own. But, we are working on getting Jackie back home. He will be safe, eventually, I promise you


	16. Home, Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackie is finally released from the hospital. But how to start this new lease on life, as it were?

It was good he was leaving the hospital. That just meant he was getting better. Meant that he didn’t need intense observation, or was under threat of infection. Even though it had only been six days, it would be good. It was amazing that Jamie had even come to visit him in the hospital a day and a half ago, despite how short and unfortunately abrupt it was. The bear was quite a lovely surprise. Even sweeter when he saw the little note. Jackie’d forgotten how much he missed seeing Jamie’s little notes. But, this was a new life. He had the chance to be more vocally appreciative. He’d already started the trend during that talk with Henrik. Now it would just be a continuous effort. And what better way than making amends when he came back home so they would hopefully start on a wholesome note.

As painful and frustrating as it was to try and hobble on crutches with half-feeling hands, that pain disappeared when Jamie was the only brother waiting inside for him. Henrik had failed to mention that Chase wasn’t here during the drive back home. “Where’s Chase?” Jackie switched between both brothers for some kind of sign before Jamie flagged his attention.

Jamie had his left hand cupped around his right just in front of his chest. Then, his right hand dropped straight down. It was shaped like a teardrop, almost like he was pinching and pulling down an imaginary rope. “I don’t know what that one means, Jamie.”

“He’s gone missing.” Jackie’s ears had to be deceiving him. Turning to Henrik, his brother’s lips were closed. Maybe he was just having auditory hallucinations. “Right bastard,” Henrik muttered out the side of his mouth. Jamie punched Henrik in the arm. “Owww,” Henrik whined, stroking the back of his arm, glaring towards their smallest brother who threw that anger right back double intensity.

“When.”

“Day three now.” Henrik directed his attention back towards Jackie. Three days...

“How do you know? Have you tried his phone??”

Henrik headed towards the living room, leaving Jackie wondering in the foyer, with Jamie. Jackie could feel himself moving forward, but Jamie rushed to push him back upright. He was left with a full view of the living room, eyes narrowed on the object Henrik was gripping with far too much intensity. Green and grey phone. Placing it down oh so not carefully, Henrik started walking and talking. “He doesn’t want to talk to us. Fine! Let him figure out his own issues, see if I care.” There was more loud talking from the kitchen, but the only one listening was Henrik.

Jackie’s eyes were fixated on the phone. Day three. But, he’d seen Chase three days ago. They’d fought. He. . . “It’s my fault,” Jackie whispered to himself, his gazing dropping down to the carpet below his feet. “I’ve got to find him.” Jackie’s head turned before he tried to get the rest of his body to match. But before he could even get his body turned halfway, there was a force markedly keeping him fixed. Twisting back, he saw one arm across his chest and the other gripping his right arm (though it would have been halted anyway, being pressed into Jamie’s chest and all). “Jameson...” Jackie pleaded with his eyes. He’d fucked up worse than ever. No more losing family. “...please.”

Jamie looked up, a kind of sadness that came after a long day, and shook his head. Jackie fought even harder to break free, met with even tougher resistance. Until finally he’d broken his way out, spinning round, falling flat on his back, his spine unhappy with the rough landing. A couple more thuds, the loudest on his left. Tilting to get a look, there was Jamie, on the ground right next to him. An exacerbated sigh came from across the room.

Rolling to face Jamie, Jackie wanted to help him up, but the lad was already working on it. Completing the flip, Jackie landed on his stomach. Hands. Push them into the ground below. Lift up your chest so you’re on your knees. Good. Legs. His right was in a boot. Move the left forward. Give it a foot to stand on. There were hands clenching his arms, trying to lift him up, but Jackie tried to shake them off. “Just let us help you!” Shouting, even if it was Henrik’s favourite mode of communication, was not very encouraging.

“I can do it!” Jackie was yelling towards the floor, unable to look anywhere else. And for a moment, it seemed like they would let him. He dug into the carpet with his left foot as best possible. Bending his arms a little, then trying to catapult up, using momentum to compensate for the hardship of having only one leg. But as soon as he thought he was safe, standing, straight on, there was a turn in his knee. A buckle and he would be right back on the ground again. And reality was much harder hitting, getting stopped by a pair of hands. Seemingly floating in mid air a second before being dragged back up to his feet, though there was no weight in them.

“Help me get him on the couch.” Jackie couldn’t even protest his feet being lifted into the air. And then he was facing the ceiling, moving, finally coming to a landing on the polyester. As soon as he was back in control, Jackie swung his body round so that he was sitting upright, causing a slight bit of headrush and a dizzy feeling that made him lean backwards. Jamie hopped onto the seat right beside him, but Henrik showed no such warmth. “What do you think you were doing hot shot?” Henrik remained standing at the empty end, arms crossed to doubly emphasize his point. He never needed to do that though, not with how he talked.

“I need–” Jackie tried pushing his hands down his side into the couch, “I need to find Chase.” He wanted to push up, but his hands were shaking again. No firm footing to stand on.

“ _ Yoou _ don’t need to do anything. Beside rest, do your exercises, and get your body working again. Got it?”

“No, but you can’t cover everywhere.” Jackie watched himself place his hands on the edge of the couch. “You don’t know all the hidden places and it’ll take you too long.” Jackie tried once more to push up, but was forcefully slammed back by Jamie’s arms. One hand gripping his arm, the other pinning him across the chest. Jackie glowered at Jamie, but there was a hardness to his sweet face. Any more arguing and he’d have another brother leave him.

Sighing, Jackie took a long time to blink before coming back to Henrik. “You have to let me help.”

“You  _ help _ by staying safe, here. I don’t want to be chasing two idiots in the street if I don’t have to.” Henrik shook his head and laid his forehead to rest on his fingertips.

_ Asshole _ . Backhanded help and all that jazz. Seemed like soft Henrik from the other night was simply an old relic. No real change. Jackie huffed in defiance. But, as always, he would forgive Henrik, because through the infuriating nature and ire, this was someone whom he grew up with, whom he loved, and who cared for him (even if he had the worst ways of showing it). Accomplishing his mission, Henrik retreated to his office, loudly closing the door behind him.

Slowly, Jamie started moving his hand from across Jackie’s chest to rubbing gentle circles in his back. Automatically, he released the tension in his shoulders and back. Deep breathing followed naturally and he wasn’t fuming anymore. And when Jackie felt up to it, he patted Jamie’s hand twice. “Thanks Jamie.” And his little brother followed up with a cute (as always) response: resting his head on Jackie’s shoulder. Being the accommodating brother, he shifted and turned so Jamie could hopefully rest in a more comfortable position.

Well, now all he could do was spend time with Jamie. Stuck at home with nothing to do. “You want to watch something?” The remote was on the table. Jackie had no problem reaching out, but grabbing was a bit of a stretch. Just, concentrate on a grip motion and make it a bit too tight. It should (and did) work. He casually lifted it towards Jamie, giving him full control, but the man gently pushed the remote back to Jackie. Jamie took a deep breath in, making Jackie mimic, then breathed out an air of happiness. Jackie couldn’t exactly say what Jamie’s sounds were like, but he could hear the difference between them. Without even looking over, he could imagine Jamie’s closed lip smile, eyes gently shut. He looked almost like a happy sleeping emoji. Was a true talent Jamie had, being that expressive with his face.

Carefully choosing buttons, Jackie maneuvered the screen to show the Great British Baking Show. “Have I ever told you your expressions are really cute Jamie?” Of course, that only made the soft boy snuggle in closer. Warmth from his glow started filling up Jackie so he couldn’t help but crack his own smile. And finally, Jackie actually relaxed back into the couch (causing Jamie to fall down a bit. He scooched himself back on the couch so that his head was now resting against the side of Jackie’s leg. But he kept contact a tight contact, wrapping his hands around Jackie’s left forearm as it rested against his leg). This. He was missing out on this. So, for now, he would try to enjoy this bit. A feel good show as background noise while he just sat here with his smallest, cautious brother. It would be good to get to know him again. See who he’d really become in Jackie’s absence. Because that’s what Jackie had been. Absent. And in a moment of faith, Jackie let his fingers grasp one of Jamie’s hands, and he squeezed for what had to be at least fifteen seconds before releasing. Jamie nuzzled his head into Jackie. Jackie placed his left hand up on Jamie’s arm, which Jamie promptly grabbed a hold of again. And they sat like this. Until the show got boring. Until Jackie could no longer try to remember baker names. Until his eyelids refused to stay open to look at the beautiful bakes they had.


	17. Chicken (not soup) for the Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, but not really sweet.  
> warning: blood

Once Jackie found his eyes staring at the ceiling, his body started to wake itself up again. Took a couple seconds until he started shifting in his seat and moving his joints, stretching the stiffness out. There was a space on his left now. TV was still going, same baking show, but no clue what episode. Looking around, there were still lights on. Light under Henrik’s office. Light from the kitchen. And fading rays from the windows. 

Noise drew his attention back to the real life kitchen. Then the aroma wafted in. Garlic and chicken. Jackie took the moment to inhale it deeply and let his eyes close in the enjoyment of a good smell. His ribs hurt against the pressure, making him cough a bit. But that smell still lingered in his nose. “Smells good!” he called to the chef. Maybe he should go try and help. But looking down at his legs.... right. Well, better just be careful then. Time to be the hero at home, right?

With great effort and concentration, Jackie started shifting his weight onto his feet, keeping a hand on the couch for support. Good thing too. His eyes stopped functioning for a couple seconds before the black vignette started fading away. Standing too fast. Hadn’t had that happen in a while. Probably dehydration. His crutches were resting comfortable against the sofa, but it was so hard to use them and just hurt his underarms. As long as he was careful, maybe he didn’t need them. Shuffle hop again and maybe just putting weight on his heel would help. That didn’t hurt so much.

A graceful hobbling over to the kitchen doorway and Jackie had full view of his dapper disheveled brother. Hadn’t ever seen him with bed-head before. “What can I help you with?” Jamie looked over at him and Jackie got a first row experience as it dawned on him. Seeing that bewildered expression of trying to balance everything. Then growing wide-eyed as he was awe-struck that his brother would have that audacity to be standing in the kitchen doorway. “Easy Jamie. I got this,” Jackie tried to reassure him, shuffling so Jamie could see him leaning against the wall on his good foot. Seemed to keep him from abandoning his work in progress. “Just getting some water. That alright with you?” With only a second’s pause, Jamie turned around to the glasses cabinet. “I can get it myself,” Jackie assured him, shuffling another step inside while grabbing a countertop. His movements made Jamie turn and nearly drop the glass he was holding to go rushing over to help. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” Jackie batted at Jamie’s hands trying to grab and support him. “Gotta learn to walk sometime.” But Jamie kept at it for a little bit until Jackie just had to look into his eyes (giving Jamie the chance to hold his brother up). Even though telepathy wasn’t one of his powers, he tried to tell Jamie that it really was fine, that he would be careful right now, that he wasn’t a fragile mess despite the bandaged appearance. He would be strong enough to recover from this and find Chase. Work so he could protect his family if that cat ever came back around to terrorize them.

Just like magic (well, not magic, but sooner than Jackie could have ever thought), Jamie let go. It took time, but he allowed Jackie the space to move. Staggered shuffling under a very watchful gaze, Jackie ventured over to the sink and used the glass Jamie had picked out for him. After filling it up and leaning back against the kitchen counter did Jamie finally move back over to the stovetop and vigorously stir his chicken chunks. 

Glancing over, Jackie tried to identify the other things in the pan while sipping on his water. Green and yellow slices of what may have been bell pepper. There was another small pot on the stove. “Whatch you making?” Oh, right. “No, wait let me guess.” Jamie turned back to his stovetop. Let’s see... chicken, vegetables, sauce, oh! A third item. Another (larger) pot on the stove, again with the lid on. “You’re not making pasta because you taught me that the sauce goes in with the other items when cooking...” And it was a lot of food in the pan to justify pasta dish. “And the sauce needs to be cooked on its own...” Jackie had been taught some cooking basics: rice, pasta, ground beef, chicken, and how to saute a veggie. But he never tried doing fancy recipes or sauces anymore than simply throwing any food he had together in the pan and heating a jar of sauce. “Okay, I know it’s a chicken dish,” Jackie remarked, slightly defeated, making Jamie lurched forward like he almost laughed.

Jackie took another sip of water as Jamie messed with the heat on his large skillet before pouring his small pot of sauce over everything. A couple good stirs and then he let the food settle. Facing his brother, Jamie finally admitted that it was, “Honey Sesame Chicken.”

“Oh!” Jackie cupped his free hand over his forehead (more like smacked his hand into it, but same end effect). “Good choice,” Jackie encouraged, nodding like an idiot. Jamie checked on his other pot, releasing a heap of steam. It was actually calming to watch Jamie cook. Especially since he was standing on his own two feet. 

Loud sounds of crashing and cracking and shattering drew his attention away. Down to the ground now littered with large shards of glass and small splashes of water. His hand was still cupped like he was holding it. He still felt like he was holding it. There was movement in his peripheral and the sound of a door opening further inside the house. “No, I got it,” Jackie insisted, starting to try and bend down. Jamie’s presence lingered until a stronger presence arrived. Jackie was already trying to pick up the large pieces, gently placing them in his left hand when Henrik forced his way in. That contemptuous sigh did nothing to help the situation. They were both diligent, one leaving to gather proper tools, the other still working hard, trying to make sure he firmly grasped pieces and didn’t let them fall down again. Strange, how he could feel things, he could grasp things, but apparently he couldn’t hold on for long.

Henrik pushed the brush along the floor towards the small dustpan with a speed that had to be knocking some of the small glass flakes back past the bin. Choosing to ignore Jackie’s form of help, the brush ended up bumping into his hand of glass. Of course, it wouldn’t have been as bad if Henrik had been careful, or slow even. But he was wild with that thing and Jackie’s fingertips were pierced on jagged edges, causing a small yelp to escape his lips. Sound finally gave Henrik a moment of pause. With another sigh, he swept the rest of the pieces up, being methodical this time, and removed the glass from Jackie’s hand. Shards and blood dumped away into the trash, Henrik worked on cleaning up Jackie’s second mess.

The temperature in the kitchen shifted. It had been warm, but now it was a dichotomy of hot and cold. His brothers reflecting each end of the spectrum. Even though Henrik was helping him, he emitted a far different feeling. One that emulated a summer heat wave that was oppressive and all you wanted to do was find a bottle of water, cool shade, and pass out to escape the heat. They had passed Jamie, staying out of the way and almost too diligent with his cooking. Glancing at his brother’s back made Jackie feel like a cold winter’s day. Passing by the shops, going in for maybe a couple minutes to melt away the frostbite before he knew he had to go back outside. Didn’t matter how hard it was on him, he had to brave the cold and do his duty.

Henrik sat Jackie down on the couch (again) and splayed his hand on the coffee table. It wasn’t gushing, but there was more blood than Jackie would have imagined. Still, Henrik washed it with peroxide and got to wrapping. “What happened?” he inquired, keeping his voice low.

“I don’t know,” Jackie responded, leaning in to make sure he was staying quiet, almost whispering. “One second I have it, the next I hear a crash. Didn’t even feel it slip.” Henrik finished his bandages and went to return to his office. “Wait!” Didn’t stop his brother’s mission, but Henrik did return, empty-handed. “What’s this mean?” Jackie asked a bit louder than he intended.

There was stillness as Jackie waited for a response of any sort. Henrik was thinking, and while that meant he was doing his best, it wasn’t comforting that he didn’t immediately know the answer. “We just need to strengthen your grip is all,” he finally answered, a bit of cheery encouragement in his voice. Like it was just an easy thing. Henrik left him with a small smile and a pat on the shoulder before he walked to the kitchen.  _ Oh god _ . Jackie raised his hands up closer to his face, trying to see what was wrong. He flipped them over and saw the scar lines along the backing of each finger. Back over, slowly making and then releasing his fists.  _ Henrik was being reassuring, maybe even hopeful. _ Jackie looked over at the kitchen to see his doctor helping Jamie with the final steps of the food. There was even a smile and Henrik patting Jamie on the back before that smile faded back down like always. Henrik’s hand stood there though, making small circles on Jamie’s back. And Jackie felt like he wanted to cry. Brooding silence was fine. Yelling was better. Meant he was annoyed, frustrated, and was his way of showing that he cared enough that Jackie got himself incredibly hurt. That’s what Jackie knew. But actively showing he cared? From the get-go and not just an off-hand reassurance Jackie had to prompt?

He’d been getting better.


	18. Stillness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day one back home. Only a few hours back home so far. And already, it's been a roller coaster. But, there was still dinner to be had and nightfall. With any luck, these would be the quiet he needed. Hopefully his brothers can give that to him.

Henrik made a point of being the first out, carrying two plates and setting them both up on the table. Satisfied, he laid himself along the rest of the open couch, feet up on the arm rest, head resting less than an inch from Jackie. Strange how lax he was right now. “You comfy?”

“Enough.” Rolling halfway over, Henrik carefully placed Jackie’s plate on his lap (complete with fork) and proceeded to bring his own onto his chest. Neither started eating, but it was not surprising to see Jamie displeased with this arrangement. Didn’t bother getting into an argument. He too put his dinner on pause at rest on the coffee table before forcefully taking Henrik’s legs and bending them so his knees were directly facing the sky, giving Jamie enough room to sit. Didn’t look comfortable, and Henrik would be petty enough to give him a few baby kicks, but Jamie obviously got some comfort from being on a full couch. Jackie started to feel that warmth when Henrik finally sat correctly, all three shoulder to shoulder — well more like shoulder, space, shoulder — together in some way. Four squishing together would have been a disaster and a half (unless Chase decided to sit either on the top part of the couch where he wasn’t allowed or across all three of their laps. Either scenario just resulted in his banishment to the single seater chair).

Henrik put on some documentary series that he and Jamie must have been involved in. At the very least, it kept their attention away from Jackie while he tried desperately to not only hold his plate but to also transfer food loosely held on his fork to his mouth. Only took a couple of minutes before his left tired and he had to settle on balancing the plate on the (thankfully) wide arm rest. Though the deep British narrator proclaimed the penguins graceful in their movements, there was nothing graceful in Jackie’s. Having to look at his hand to make sure the fork was still there. Straining to keep a death grip on things, and still his fingers wanted to shake about. Had half a mind to just try and get his mouth close to the edge of the plate and shovel food in, but then he’d most likely spill food onto the couch and have to try and clean up. No, better to practice his grip (however painful). After all, wouldn’t it be fantastic to show Henrik how good his control was getting. Prove that he was okay.

Jamie was gracious enough to take Jackie’s plate from him. But after sitting still for over ten minutes, being bored with this show, Jackie wanted to just... do something. He should probably be doing exercises, but that required space, which was only available in front of the TV. His hand curled around the edge of the arm rest. Exercise his hands, specifically his grip. Seemed doable. He probably had hand grippers, and if he didn’t Henrik surely would. Nudging him seemed to gather his attention. “What?” Henrik responded, whispering, sounding too normal and unaffected by the interruption.

“Do you have a pair of hand grippers I could use?” Jackie whispered in kind.

“Why do you need hand squeezers?” A bit faster pace this time, but still staying surprisingly calm.

“To work out my hands.”  _ Obviously. _ Henrik sighed, leaning back into the couch, arms crossed.

Okay, new strategy. “Jamie?” Jackie leaned forward past Henrik, as did Jamie. “Do you have a...” Something simpler than grippers... “stress ball I could borrow?” Little smile to cap it off and Jamie was on his feet. As soon as Jamie left the room, Henrik bumped his shoulder into Jackie’s arm. “Heyy.” Jackie started gently rubbing his sore arm as he lay back. “Felt like you hit the break there.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Henrik shrink down a bit. Jamie came back in though, tossed the ball to Jackie. Barely catching it in his lap, he looked back to Jamie and gave a small nod, Jamie returning the favour. And they were back to their silence. Despite his upper arm hurting, Jackie worked on doing long, controlled squeezes of the ball in his left hand. Pain didn’t matter as long as he could feel the squish of the ball between his fingers. His right just lay on his arm, focusing on the bandaging and blood running underneath it.

Preparations for Jackie’s unspoken bed time was a bit more chaotic than any one of them had anticipated. Jackie had assumed he’d be upstairs in his own bed, because why wouldn’t he be? And only after he started moving around the couch did his brothers stop him. Jamie worked on setting a bed while Henrik helped him to the downstairs bathroom where his toothbrush was now located. Toilet used and teeth brushed, Jackie emerged to a couch covered in his favourite sheets, a plump pillow, and a couple of fluffy blankets. Hopefully he could fall asleep in it.

Lights off, the other two jogged up the stairs and darkened the upstairs hallway. Small lights on the TV and powerstrips and the windows only gave faint glows. Was certainly dark enough to sleep. It was too warm to actually warrant more than having a sheet over him (especially since he was still in his day clothes), but the blankets had purpose. One was bundled behind the pillow and cushioned his fatigued hand. The other one was scrunched up near his chest, acting as something his left could hold on to. Didn’t have much form, but that didn’t seem to matter. Comfort coupled with the pain med Henrik gave him before bed seemed to work enough at loosening his body to the idea of sleep.

That is, until something came along and disrupted his security. All his brain could say at first was that there was danger. Shooting up straight and sweating, Jackie looked around. Not exactly a great view, but he could see enough to know that nothing was out of place. His heart rate wouldn’t slow down though. For a moment, Jackie thought it was just his brain playing a cruel joke. But then there were creaks. Followed by a curiously overwhelming scent; something from his past that clawed at old memories. But now wasn’t the time for remembering. Finally, there was an arrival of thousands of bits of sparkles in a cloud of smoke, spinning furiously until it fell to the ground, leaving the worst person imaginable in its place.

“Miss me?” He was coy, acting like a drama queen. It took a moment before his glowing eyes actually shifted to gaze upon Jackie.

“What are you doing here?” Jackie spat back, doing his best to rip his coverings away from him.

“Come now,” he lingered, drifting his hand across the armchair as he made his way around the furniture. In turn, Jackie made a move to stand, tall and proud like he was still defender of the city. “Save that kind of malice for when I’ve actually done something wrong.” To top it off, he had the audacity to boop Jackie’s nose. It was almost a reflex, grabbing for his hand as the magician turned away. But one second he was inches away, the next, he was four feet back, low to the ground, head bowed, arms back holding his cape up. Lifting his head, he grinned, making Jackie feel shivers again. “You’re getting better I see.”

“Cut the chit chat.” Jackie raised his fists up in front of him. Surely this was stupid, but he wasn’t known for his smarts, now was he. “You want to go again?”

“My,” he nearly laughed, standing back in a proper pose. Would have mistaken him for a gentleman if Jackie didn’t know better. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you? I suppose,” he started meandering off, circling toward the back of the couch, “you still need time to rethink my offer.”

“Answer’s no!” Jackie kept his gaze fixed on his opponent, trying to keep the focus on the two of them, circling, squaring off, ready for an incoming strike at any moment. 

They just stood there for a minute, a staring contest to see who would make the first move. Until suddenly, his foe turned and looked up the stairs. “I hear there’s,” there was a pause and almost on cue, a faint piano melody seemingly emanating from upstairs, “a third brother.” He grinned back at Jackie. That only fanned the hero’s flame though. “Would be a shame to leave him out of these family introductions.”

And there was that grin from below that cat mask, like a sleazy salesman – no, like a hunter standing overtop his latest prize. With a flick of the cape, he was off. Not a sprint though, but a slow methodical walk, emphasizing each creek of the floor and stair board just to humiliate Jackie further.

No, he’d fought him off of Chase before, he’d fight him off again. Hobbling around the couch, trying his damndest to run but restricted by this damn boot. Throwing caution to the window, he tried to climb the stairs normally — not even normally, but two steps at a time to try and catch up. The wave of purple fabric so close in front that he could almost grab it. Succeeding in falling flat on his chin a step behind. The magician turned at the sound of the thud and started a low menacing laugh. Jackie could only watch as one boot came crashing down onto his hand. A cry of agony escaping his mouth as the heel twisted and ground itself into his hand. Victorious, the man ascended. But Jackie wasn’t done yet. Crying in pain and hand throbbing with fresh blood flow, he reached up, grabbing the edge of stairs and pulling himself up.

Coming up on the landing, Jackie reached out to snag that damned fabric. It caused the man to jerk back a bit, but he simply turned around and bent down to Jackie’s eye level. His eyes were no longer glowing, more human, but his mask seemed to be emitting a purple glow around it now. New magic. Good, he was resorting to different tactics. Means he still saw Jackie as a threat, someone to be dealt with. “Maybe, I was too merciful with you,” he started through gritted teeth. “Maybe, I should have” —a bluish-purple flame appeared in his right hand— “burned your nerve endings to a crisp. Or locked you in your mind–” The flame grew bigger with every word– “Or just slaughtered them when I first found out you had another family!”

“Jackie,” a lazy and tired voice called out. Both men looked at the door as a light turned on behind it. There were some more murmurings behind the door as floorboards started creaking. Twisting back, the man with the mask snarled at Jackie before vanishing in his now signature cloud of smoke and sparkles. All trace of him gone, Jackie let his head rest on the ground. Man this carpet was soft.

With the turning of the door knob and a tired yawn, Henrik exited his bedroom. “Thought that the–” His words stopped cold, causing Jackie to lift his head to look back up. His brother was backlit, but it wasn’t hard to imagine what his face should have looked like. Mouth agape, shocked, eyes wide and bewildered at the scene before him. No, actually, that would have been Jamie’s reaction. But the question remained the same. Because how could Jackie have – no, WHY would Jackie have climbed these stairs this early in the morning? And who even knows how much Henrik heard before Jackie and his nemesis learned of his presence. Come to think of it, why was he so afraid of the others finding him? If he wanted to just toy with Jackie by making them suffer, surely this would have been a golden opportunity for that.

“What in hell are you doing up here?” Henrik yelled quietly, racing to Jackie’s side. He was frantically looking over Jackie, but being tough and determined, Jackie pulled himself up to the top, legs lazily off to the side as he propped himself up. The examination stopped once Henrik found something he needed to fix. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

Jackie didn’t have time to protest as Henrik rushed past him. But in the silence, there was still concern. He knew he wasn’t hurt more than a couple cuts and bruises. So, he tried to make as little noise as possible as he crawled towards Jameson’s room on his forearms. He was just reaching up for the handle when a hand gripped his wrist tight, stopping him cold and making his hair stand. Looking at the owner, it was good that it was only Henrik, but there was still danger afoot. “I need to see that he’s alright,” Jackie whispered up to his brother.

Henrik let Jackie go, but it took a couple seconds before his hand rested firmly on the doorknob. Even longer before he finally turned it and cracked open the door. Light from Henrik’s room bounced off doors and frames and walls casting varying layers of light shadows expanding into Jamie’s room. But there he was, safe and asleep. “There, you see?” Henrik tried to assure him, closing the door to let Jamie be alone again. “Now, will you please,” he bent down and got something from his side, “stay still.” The soaked cotton stung against his face, and Jackie couldn’t help but flinch away, but he leaned back into it for Henrik.

And even though they were both quiet, inches outside of Jamie’s room, it wasn’t usual. There was the general nighttime silence he would hear when entering the house when everyone else was asleep. Adding to that, there was also the careful silence, choosing your moves carefully to not disturb the peace you entered. And of course Henrik wasn’t speaking. But he wasn’t rough and quick with Jackie. Even considering the poor lighting, Henrik worked with such care and gentleness. Why was he always kindest during these stolen times?

“You wanted to ask why I was up here,” Jackie spoke for him. A small pause in motion before Henrik continued cleaning. “I thought Jamie was in danger.” There was a stillness as Jackie contemplated telling Henrik the whole truth. “And I was the only thing that could save him.” A mad teleporting man who just threatened their lives. It was fine when it was just Jackie he was harming. He could live in a constant state of vigilance because, well, that’s how he lived anyway. Now though, he’d unwittingly unleashed that on his family.

“Must have been a strong nightmare,” Henrik broke his silence, changing to bandages now.

“I wish it were.”  _ No, c’mon Jackie. You have to be blunt about this. You can’t just pat around it _ . “He’s real.”  _ Tell them they’re in danger. You have to, for their sake! _ “And I won’t...” deep breath now, “won’t always be able to protect you guys.”

Hands slowly pulled away from his face and all Jackie would do was stare at Henrik. In the darkness though, that was the only sign of recognition he got. Couldn’t see if he was terrified or stone-faced, thinking or panicking. And for that long drawn out moment, it really started to sink in. This wasn’t just his life he was playing with, it was Henrik’s, Jamie’s, Chase’s (wherever he was spiraling out). And he wouldn’t always be so lucky as to get an introduction when this man arrived.

But he seemed to only want to deal with them one-on-one. So maybe, maybe if they were just all together, then he could protect them– no, they could protect each other. He may have been the fighter in the family, but his brothers all seemed to have a bit of that fighting courage in them, in their own unique ways.

“Come on then.” Henrik grunted as he heaved himself off the ground. Quickly followed by a hand extending out to Jackie. With some momentum, he was on his wobbly feet in no time. Opening the door once again, Henrik walked Jackie into the room to the bed. At the very least, Jamie kept a clean room (and especially floor), so they wouldn’t trip over anything. And his sheets felt so soft to the touch. “You tell him, I’ve just got to do some quick things.”

With a throbbing hand, Jackie gently shook Jamie. Hopefully not too rough of a jostle. A couple gently coos of “Jamie” finally got him roused out of sleep. “Hey,” he whispered softly, almost apologetic. Jamie turned towards him, eyes not fully open. “Can we have a sleepover?” There wasn’t much movement from him, almost to the point Jackie thought he didn’t even hear him. But then there was an aggressive shuffling of legs as Jamie laid back down and scooted across his bed, making room for Jackie to lay comfortably. “Henrik’s coming too.” Jamie groaned at the request, but eventually shifted over again until he was mere inches from the side, Jackie sandwiching right up against him so Henrik had room. Jackie wasn’t sure when Henrik would be back in, or what he was even doing, but for now, he carefully wrapped his right hand around Jamie’s chest, squeezing only enough for a warm hug. And slowly, that bitter grumpiness melted as Jamie grabbed Jackie’s hand and held it.

Wasn’t long before Jamie had fallen back asleep again, but Jackie had a much harder time. Past the quiet, the lights finally turned off, and even once Henrik was in bed (back turned to Jackie because god forbid he ever platonically cuddle with his brothers). He could feel them, safe and sound, and with him. They were stronger in numbers. No more attacks tonight. And yet, Jackie felt compelled to look around the room for a sign, a sparkle, something that was out of place. He couldn’t remember when he stopped looking, only when he realized that there was light where there once was darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, Marvin re-enters the story! :D


	19. Push Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackie has to find a way to talk to Jamie. But it's so damn hard still. Why it's so hard? Why can't they just move past this block? He just wants to be his brother again. When did he stop being that?

Fear. When he was reaching around and couldn’t find a body in front of him. Followed by a very frantic rolling out of bed (literally). Jutting up to look around, and it was only him and Henrik. “JamIE?” he shouted. Scrambling to push himself up with the bed. This goddamn boot hindering his movement. Did he even need the damn thing? A step straight on it sending distress signal shooting through his leg was a painful answer.

Okay, but quick. He had to move quick out the door. Bathroom, open door. “Jamie!” Two knocks, downstairs. And away Jackie would have flown. Painfully taking caution down the stairs. Jackie was ready to charge the door to save his brother, but ended up being caught by him at the bottom of the stairs instead. Bouncing back up, Jackie just took in Jamie. And relief was the only way he would describe it. Releasing tension in his muscles and the alarm bells being silenced. He couldn’t be mad at Jamie for being okay. Didn’t stop him from that damn near heart attack though. Jamie luckily took it in the best way. Just reassuring Jackie he was fine and that they should have breakfast. Jackie’s stomach didn’t disagree, and in fact only adds emphasis to the point.

It wasn’t much. Just two bowls of cereal and two glasses of orange juice. More cautious this time, Jamie forced Jackie to stay seated on his couch, hand delivering every item to the coffee table for the both of them. Seemed like this would be the new dining table for the next couple days– weeks. Would certainly explain why it was so neat and clean.

Jamie munched happily along to the background of a news channel he’d turned on. At least it distracted his attention away from his brother holding a death grip on a spoon and keeping the bowl directly under his mouth in case of spills. But at some point (possibly only five minutes in) it became a much better idea to slurp up the liquid and leave the soggy pieces of bran in the bowl to mush because it was killing Jackie’s hands to just keep holding things.

Clattering of ceramic against glass caused Jamie to turn, but then he took a swig of his juice before consuming the rest of his cereal. Jackie tried to pay attention to the TV, but it was first about a court case against a sexual predator (despicable how some pricks felt entitled to someone else’s body), and then a puff piece about a local bakery celebrating 50 years (he’d need to go give them patronage or maybe ask his brothers to buy him something), and then talking about traffic (Jackie never cared for that anyway) before skipping onto a commercial break. Thankfully, it was muted as Jamie took to clearing his dishes. He tried to encourage Jackie to drink something, but didn’t push more than once. Woeful, Jamie cleared his single set of dishes, prompting Jackie to take a secret sip, cupping the glass with both hands and lifting it the slightest bit to get a small flow.

Returning, Jamie changed the tuner to the baking show, fiddling for the correct episode. He gave Jackie a look back, nodding his head towards the TV. And as tempting as it was to just drown out reality, Jackie sighed with the knowledge that it wouldn’t make him feel better. “Can we talk, actually?” The words pained him, carrying such weight like the world would end. Actually, more of  _ this could be big, or could be nothing, but this must happen, but because I’m pushing it to happen and not being pulled by some outside force _ . Message conveyed or not, Jamie did sit back down in the armchair, turned askew so he could properly face Jackie’s couch seat.

“What about?” Indeed, what about?

“I...” So, this was going to be an apology then... “haven’t really been here for you, for the past while... and I wanted to try and...” his hands started spinning around each other, rolling along for words... “be more... of a support system than I feel I have been. Y’know, just, kinda, talk about what’s going on, exciting or mundane. Just, like, what’s been going on in your life. Cause I feel like I’ve kinda missed out on that.” There was a sudden growing itch on his hand. Jackie peered down and saw that his bandage was coming off, scrunching and bunching up under his thumb that had been resting on it. Guess he’d been rubbing his hand. Sighing, he did his best to pull it back over. So much for sensory feeling.

Jamie just sat there, and Jackie just sat there. Both sitting there in silence. Because how do you follow that up? Call or response? What was he even expecting as a response? Just a ramble on about everything? That Jamie would hug him despite the fact that he should be the one giving the hug? Agreement? Disagreement? There was no real question in it, so there was no proposed answer.

“I guess, I can just start by asking, is there anything that you wanted to tell me, but I just wasn’t there to hear it?”  _ Idiot, idiot. That’s way too fucking heavy. Yeah, well what else were you supposed to say, “tell me everything that’s happened since I’ve been gone? Anything interesting happen?” It’s not a goddamn interrogation! Can save civilians from a burning building but can’t do small talk. Fantastic. _

“Nothing really,” Jamie finally decided upon.  _ Baka, baka _ . “I suppose I’ve started trying to learn the clarinet. Haven’t gotten far though.”

“That’s pretty cool though!” Indeedy really! Jackie even leaned forward to show that he was listening intently. “What made you want to learn?”

“Jazz music.” Jazz music? “A colleague really likes it. Can’t do trumpet, and saxophone was too expensive. Clarinet seemed nice though.”

“Wow! Must have been some conversation to –” what was a good word– “inspire you to pick it up.” Jameson shook his head plainly, then stopped abruptly, staring down at his hands a bit. “Inspiring person then, is it?”

Without looking up, Jameson added, “Amazing actually.”

Jackie felt his lips parting into the largest smile he’d had in weeks. Because Oh. My. God. Jamie had– Wait, no teasing. Remember, no teasing. But Jackie couldn’t help but buzz inside. “Have you told her yet?”

“Don’t think she’d be that interested.” Jamie looked away again. Oh boy! Jackie felt like running up and giving his brother a big ol’ bear hug so tight it felt like you could crack a rib (though, he’d only ever cracked his own). 

“Oh come on. I’m sure she’d love to hear it! You’re quite the talented man you are!”

“Thanks.” It was a small sign, and he was still red in the cheeks.

“No seriously! I dunno. If she plays something too, you two can go upstairs and jam out. Or you can take her to one of those artsy festival things and gush about lightning and sound and all that jazz!” That last unintentional pun earned a chuckle from both of them.

“No, no, that’s far too forward,” Jamie batted away, still smiling sheepishly.

“Then start simple. Start with coffee.” Jackie was doing his best to restrain himself, letting only a small encouraging smile grace his lips. But holy jeez! What if Jamie finally got a girlfriend!? Romance had never been the easiest thing for them (hell, Henrik accidentally fell into his first relationship, and at 23 even!). And Jackie was proud that Jamie was growing into such a fine lad. Had interests, held down a job, seemed to have friends despite his introverted-ness. But, he often worried that Jamie would never end up with someone. He wasn’t a shining example for it, but Jackie did miss dating. Just coming to a shared space, curling up on the couch or in the bed, catching a whiff of her and feeling at home. Messing with each other and sending little I love you texts to make sure you never forgot. Or feeling so complete when making out, or any other physical act to just show them how whole they made you feel. Jackie just wanted Jamie to experience that joy.

“I don’t know.”  _ Hhhuuuhhh. Jamie! you’re never gonna know if you don’t try! _

“Come oooonnnn,” Jackie cried, wishing he could lay on the floor, roll over, and look at Jamie upside down. Always seemed to make his persuasion more effective. “It’s just coffee. And it’s just a conversation. You don’t need to confess your love, just get to know her.” Sounded so simple when he put it that way. “Can even have a list of questions you want to ask if you like.” Maybe that would ease some of his anxiety.

Jamie just sat there, looking at Jackie, then the table, then Jackie, then the floor, then his hands, and back to Jackie. Seems at least he was considering it, pondering more like it. But, if Jackie could spur him into action, that would be a good thing. Never liked to see love slip past. And his heart yearned back to Lexi. To the lavender and laughs. The time he brought her chicken soup when she had a cold and they sat and watched the TV show until she fell asleep on his lap. A sad smile came across as his chest heaved up and down. Hadn’t realized how much he missed her.

Muffled phone buzzing interrupted their state of existence. Jamie reached into his pocket and another buzz erupted. He started reading, then his eyes narrowed and he brought the phone closer to his face, almost like he was reading tiny text. Then another buzz, and a fourth, fifth, sixth. God, what was so important?

It took some time, but Jamie eventually put the phone back in its place. His face was kind of tired. “I must leave,” he signed plainly before getting up out of the chair and walking towards the coat hangers.

“Where you going?” There was a sense of urgency in his voice. Jackie didn’t want Jamie to leave, couldn’t let Jamie leave. Not after last night.

Jamie finished putting his sleeves through his coat before answering. “Meeting. Forgot.” He turned his back again.

Jackie instinctually stood before his mouth could catch up. “Wait!” Took a moment for Jamie to actually pause and turn an ear to listen. “Just, keep your phone on. Okay?” Jamie nodded and headed out. Didn’t take him long to get his car started and leave either.

Standing there, Jackie couldn’t find the place to make himself move. No chance to even stop him. And that complete flip in interaction was giving him whiplash. He’d wanted to talk with Jamie more (yes about this mysterious girl, but about other things too) and they seemed to be finding a groove again.

Maybe it was hard for Jamie to see him like this though. Yes, that wasn’t  _ why  _ he left, but maybe it was why he was so  _ quick _ to leave. He couldn’t make his cells heal faster, but he could make his blood move quicker and try to rebuild the strength he lost. Faster improvement could only benefit him. Benefit his whole family. Maybe he could actually go out and find Chase.

Top down. Head rolls, head turns, shoulder rolls, front back, arm circles, wrist shakes, grasp exercises (that he now added). A-frame stance and lean down to one side, other, forward. God his legs were hating him. Torso twisting. Down on the ground as quick as he could. Back flat, knees bent so his legs were nearly vertical and feet squished against his butt. Half-bridges resting on his shoulders that caused them to burn, but he could grit through the pain. Leg stretches. As many as he could think of. Table. Maybe? He watched himself put his hands on the ground, making sure they were flat. Small lift, maybe a couple inches, and back down. Okay, breathe out, big extend. His wrists felt like they were taking everything and his right leg had pain shooting straight through the bone. Crumpled, he came back down lopsided. Okay, no lunges. Breathe. In, hold, out.

What next. What next. No legs... Would love if there was a medicine ball nearby. Screw it. Free hand. No, controller remote. Needed to practice his grip. Back flat again, legs bent up. Sit up, torso twisted to the side. Down. Up and other twist. Down. Keep going, dig the feet into the ground. Breathe. In, out. Good. Fight through this. Keep going. No counting reps, just whenever. Breathe. Left. Down. Right. Down. Switch on the fly. Arms across the chest, gripping shoulder. Up, down. Up. Down. Come on. Breathe. Pain means work. In. Out. Okay. Okay. Stop. Stop. Down. Arms at his side, controller finally released. Breathe. Good. Eyes closed. Breathe. Good.

What next. Legs. Legs, legs, legs. Walking. Walking. No crutches. Just on the foot. No falling. Near the walls, for safety. But don’t use them. Try not to use them. Up on his forearms to a sit. Left leg forward, like a lunge. Push forward, finding stability as soon as possible. Up. He was up. Alone. And up. Okay. Step. Full foot. Full force. Forward. Shit. Pain, pain. Okay, breathe. Suck it up. Breathe. Wall. Which is closest? Got it. Heel. Just go quick. Move. Move. Stumbles don’t matter, just walk. Okay. okay. Wall. Maybe some help for the left. Just to get it working a normal way again. Around the wall into the kitchen. Looking down, making sure feet are doing correct. Good. Good. Breathe. Cross to the counter. Keep it steady. Keep moving. Doesn’t matter how it feels. Pain is progress. Just keep.

Water. Grab a glass, firm, gentle. Steady. Sink. Watch. Drink and put down. No relapses. Cereal. Food. Back around. Every step torture. Keep going. Breathe. Push. Wall. Okay. Couch. in. sight. Breathe. One. Two. Stagger stagger stagger. Couch. couch. okay. okay. bent over, huffing, but standing. Okay. In. Out. No more steps. Please, no more steps. Falling over the armrest into the cushions, Jackie’s legs swung up into the air, seemingly weightless, before coming back down because of gravity. Turning over slowly, his knees were bent over the rest now. Rest. Yes, he would rest now. Work up more strength for the evening. He’d try again. If he could move, he’d be okay. Just, had to start moving again is all.

He had to sit up to grab his cereal bowl and came crashing back down. The bowl lay on his chest. Couldn’t eat like this. Wouldn’t move his legs. Sitting up, eeeehhhhhhhhh, not really. Fine. Watching himself, the bowl was placed back on the table, this time in an easier reach. His hands were sore from all that work. Closing his eyes, breathing in and out, Jackie tried to tell his body to rest. Stop being huffy right now. Mind over matter and he wouldn’t be in so much pain. Just keep breathing. Even though it wouldn’t stop. That his hands were going numb and his leg just starting feeling more and more pressure. Slowly building until that’s all his brain could think about. Breathe, breathe, breathe. Okay, no, it’s shallow. Quick huffs just to keep air going. His hands, broken as they may have been, tried applying pressure to his boot to make the pain have some logic to it. But his hands only had their own pain signals shooting out. Fuck. Why was this so bad? why was this so bad?

“HENRIK!” Jackie yelled, trying to be loud enough to reach the furthest bedroom, but desperately trying to keep himself under control. Breathe, breathe. No creaking wood. “HENRIK,” a bit more urgent this time. Jackie shut his eyes tight to try and cope.

Slow. Any sound from movement was slow. And Jackie just felt the pain burning hotter. Eventually his brother showed up. “You didn’t take your pain meds,” he said plainly, not even pausing after stepping off the staircase. There wasn’t any headspace to develop an emotional response to that. Everything just focused on the pressure compounding in his leg that wasn’t supposed to be– was working. And just, fuck this hurt. This really hurt, and why did he not remember that he had to take meds?

“Open,” Henrik instructed, hand on Jackie’s chin. Despite the comfort that tensing his jaw brought, Jackie opened and felt the oblong pill drop in. “Lean forward.” Wasn’t really Jackie’s doing, more Henrik lifting his back up so he wasn’t flat down anymore. “Drink.” Glass, the tipping, and then the water. Not much, but Jackie closed his throat while it flowed in. Shutting tight, his body naturally swallowed. He could still feel the pill sliding down the bottom of his esophagus though. Henrik returned him down to the couch and Jackie went back to being tense to cope.

“I’m taking your boot off.” Seemed Henrik was in full doctor mode, just routine now. A blank bored tone, but something else. Not judgement like normal. But Jackie’s brain wasn’t much for processing. He could feel the movement, but nerves still rang out in agony. Henrik left him there, but the footsteps were moving around and never too soft.

A different sensation. Heat. Almost like a hot blacktop, but that was fine. There was heat, and that malleable plastic texture. Then another one. Topping it off with Henrik wrapping his leg and the heat packs with what had to be a towel. It wasn’t gone, but it was enough to let himself open his eyes. Finally, a bigger breath as the heat started zapping away portions of his pain.

Jackie had to swallow the saliva that had built up in his mouth before speaking. “Thank you. Truly.”

“I’m a doctor, aren’t I?” Henrik responded casually, taking a seat. His head rested in his hand. Still tired then. Jackie couldn’t blame him. “You get nough sleep,” he managed, slightly slurring his own words.

“Guess so.” Jackie hadn’t bothered checking the time. He’d woken up with energy though, so that had to be a good thing. “You?”

“Chh!” Henrik jeered at the question. “Never.” He– he had to know that wasn’t a good thing. “Where’s Jameson?”

“Went out.” Jackie felt okay enough to relax his shoulders, making himself sigh. Breathing. Felt so good.

“D’you have more than cereal?”

“Juice.” There was a sort of hum, like Henrik was trying to judge the quality of the meal.

“You do anything besides breakfast?”

“I did some exercises. Figure that it would be good to stretch and build my muscles.”

A guttural sound combined with Henrik’s breath. Of course he disapproved. “This is not a sprint Jackie. It’s a marathon. And you don’t have your healing powers anymore. Which means you have to be slow. Let your body heal itself before trying to build back up. Bones and nerves take time.”

What Jackie wanted to say was that he was just doing what his physical therapist told him. But that would be a lie. He’d pushed himself far harder than they ever did. They didn’t even give him much homework either, besides walking on crutches. But exercise had benefits. More than just muscle building. “Exercises increase blood flow.”

“So does heat.” Jackie had to physically lift his head up to see that smug grin of Henrik saying  _ I-told-you-so _ . It wasn’t there. Just Henrik, looking more sleep-deprived and pale than ever.

“You don’t look so good,” Jackie tried to put it mildly.

“Neither do you.” Grabbing the half-drunk orange juice, Henrik chugged the whole thing in one go.

Laying back down, Jackie tried to steer them towards other things. “Did you know that Jamie likes a girl?”

“Not subtle, is he?” The smell of coffee started to fill Jackie’s nose. Henrik left the room and soon returned, presumably mug in hand.

Jackie wanted to know how long Jamie had been crushing, how long Henrik knew. But there was hesitation. And he knew knowing would only hurt him more. “Do you think Jamie’s afraid to talk with me?”

“Don’t know.” Long sip, giving Jackie time to re-word his question. “Why?”

“Don’t know.” Maybe it was his mind just being weird. “He seemed kinda short today, like he didn’t want to talk, until we got talking about his crush. I dunno, just seemed... seemed kinda hard to talk with him.”

Another drag of coffee. “He’s had to process a lot over the past few days. Probably still is.” Right... normal people took a long time to deal with large complicated issues and changes. Guess Jackie was just so used to simply accepting situations as fact and quickly readjusting his plans to include that. He wished there was a way to speed that process up for others though.

Rolling his eyes, Jackie tried to ignore that shit talk. Patience. He had to be patient. People didn’t move at the same pace. In any aspect. Let them move while giving encouragement. “You think there’s anything I can do to help?”

Hums of lights and the central air. Fun. “Closure.” Jackie felt his face scrunch but didn’t waste any energy looking up, just kept looking at the ceiling. “You could give him closure about what happened to you.”

Jackie could feel his body start to tighten, and a cramp unfortunately formed in his good leg, causing him to lurch forward and try and massage it away. “You really think that’ll help?” Jackie questioned with strained breath.

“Honesty is the first step in open communication.” His mind split. Henrik could sound so sagely and knowledgeable. But the right bastard was such a hypocrite. Never liked talking about things and you had to read his tone to try and get his actual message. Even so, Jackie knew that trust was founded upon openness and vulnerability. And Jamie was so hot and cold with him right now. Would be nice to meet at a happy warmth.

“You really think he wants to hear what happened?”

“Not the gory details no. But, something. You owe him truth Jackie.” Disappointed with his options, Jackie slowly leaned back into the couch cushions. His hand lay on his stomach as he took a big breath in and out.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay. got a lot to say here.  
> 1\. Yes, I am all for Jackie being excited for Jameson. But I also want to say that dating is not the be-all end-all holy grail of relationships. And yes, Jameson is attracted to her. But if he weren't romantically attracted (say emotionally attracted instead), he can still have a wonderful relationship with her. Not all attraction leads to dating. Yes, I want them to form a close bond, but there are more possibilities than just boyfriend and girlfriend. Lastly, there is no such thing as being "late" with this stuff. There is being ready for a relationship and not ready for it.  
> 2\. So, I typically write a chapter ahead before posting (which means that next chapter is already drafted, yes). I do this to give myself time to forget and come back to edit fresh and so I can reconcile details between close chapters. Unfortunately, the next next chapter will be super long with lots of yelling. I cannot split it up. I imagine it will be 6 pages (meaning it’ll likely end up being 11 pages, but that’s neither here nor there). Because of that, I will try to post next chapter sooner than post-draft phase. But, inevitably, there will be a longer time between updates.  
> 3\. And most important, next chapter. I am rewriting Chords, where this whole thing started. Chords, as it stands, no longer fits the story (I now think of it as something that could have happened if Jackie hadn’t broken his leg, hadn’t lied so much, basically, if shit wasn’t so fucked up). So, I will be deleting it. In this rewrite, I am trying to keep those same feelings, but I make no promises. I’ll probably delete it by next Saturday. So, if you want one last re-read, now’s your chance.


	20. Strike a Chord

To put it mildly, Jameson’s day was strange. Woken up at an ungodly hour by Jackie, then being tormented with nightmares he wouldn’t remember, and most recently, being dragged out for an impromptu meeting with Marvin. Even stranger was how everything that happened today seemed to fade away, like his memory wasn’t storing information at the moment. Upon arriving home though, Jameson felt the overwhelming urge to practice. Intentions somewhat muddled in his brain fog, he carried on anyway. Hopefully it would bring some sense and calm into this day. And perhaps take his mind away from his worries.

On to the piano where he would be warming up his hands before delving into these new pieces Marvin had suggested. They were fine enough, not exactly classic, but he could mess with the tempo well enough. But in keeping with today’s theme, there was one part his fingers just wouldn’t do correctly. Each hand was perfectly fine on its own, but combined? Terrible. Wasn’t a tricky thing like triplets over eighths, or the fact that the patterns were strange (yet somehow fit). Skipping it for now, he pressed on. No sense to keep doing what wasn’t working right now. Perhaps it was just the day. Maybe piano wasn’t the best cure after all.

A knock on the door startled Jameson. He knocked twice on the hard plastic shell of his keyboard, allowing Henrik to enter. “Hey Jameson.” Jameson gave a small wave. “Could I keep the door open, perchance? I think Jackie would enjoy hearing you play.” Well, nothing really wrong with that. Jameson nodded and Henrik nodded back in acknowledgement before leaving, door still open.

Wiggling his fingers to try and get them fresh and loose, Jameson took another whack at his repertoire. Same difficulty, same day, same style all his own, but there was just this creeping feeling inside of him. Nerves possibly, but he’d learned to get over his stage fright long ago. Though, perhaps, practicing in the open was different than performing with an invisible audience. 

Dissatisfied with himself, Jameson took a different approach. Turning off his keyboard, he put his sheets away in a folder and got his violin out of its case. He took a few minutes to tune it before trotting down the stairs. 

“You didn’t have to come down here.” Jameson ignored Jackie, gently laying his instrument on the padded armchair. “I could hear you perfectly fine.” Taking a sturdy wood chair from the dining table, he brought it into the living room and sat it next to the armchair. Another quick wrist warm up (wrist rotations and finger interlocking & cracking, among others) before grabbing his violin and bow.

Tucking it under his chin, Jameson started on his usual warm-up routine. Though, to anyone else, it would have sounded just like a regular song with an absurd amount of scales. Those were Jameson’s little touches. But in fact, he had just adapted it. All the different techniques encased in those five minutes were a good test of what he should be working on the rest of the time. And today, it seemed like he was quite more apt than normal.

Small clapping drew his attention to Jackie, who was now sitting upright. Placing his violin aside for a second, Jameson informed Jackie. “You can read while I play. You don’t have to just watch.”

There was barely a pause for Jackie to show he thought about it. “I’m fine like this. Unless, you’d rather I not watch.”

“No no. That’s fine.” Jackie usually liked multi-tasking though. Jameson didn’t know how to feel about having his undivided attention now. 

Getting back into position, Jameson started simply fiddling around with notes, melodys, lines stuck in his head. Either ones he’d written down, written for another instrument, or that would just be stuck on repeat in his head with no simple conclusion. Sometimes he’d fumble onto another composer’s song, but that was fine. Inspiration came from different sources, and there was no shame in being inspired by another’s song. Kept moving on without breaks between phrases because this was simply him improvising in the moment, letting the music flow.

As much fun as he was having with this though, Jameson did want to show off some of the harder pieces he had learned recently (what an arbitrary word, recently. Ones he hadn’t gotten a chance to perform was more accurate). Finding an ending was by far the hardest thing to do, but he found his extravagant landing, which was met with rigorous clapping from Jackie. A turn towards his fan and slight bow of the head before getting back in position for another go at it. This time, structured. Perhaps it would have been a good idea to get his sheets. Yes, indeed. A quick journey up and down the stairs and he was back at it.

Tchaikovsky, a good one to start with. Song Without Words. Yes, it was for piano, but the melody sounded so beautiful on the strings. Three minutes gone, a few notable mistakes to his ear, and silence. There was that clapping again, less fervent than before, but that was quite alright. Something more modern perhaps. Jameson tried to think of any songs Jackie would enjoy. The only recognizable songs Jameson’s brain could conceive of were those Vitamin String Quartet had covered. Settling, he decided to try and play Pompeii as a lone violinist. Simple, and lacking the backing his ears craved, but Jameson pushed through it for an upbeat song for his brother. Joy was an important part of the healing process, yes?

Putting a brave face on when he lowered the bow, Jameson looked to see Jackie’s reaction. He seemed quite thrilled with the performance. Lauding with just as much vigor as ever. Until he stopped abruptly and sharply. A pain seemingly shooting through his hands as they quickly froze in place while his face scrunched up in pain. He needn’t clap so hard that it hurt him. But then Jameson realized that Jackie wasn’t trying to be overzealous in his approach. There were fresh bandages around his left hand and something not quite right about the look of his hands (clasped together as they were) in general.

Setting his violin on the ground, Jameson hopped chairs to get a closer look. There were fine pink and white lines running down the back of each finger. That was all he could discern before Jackie hid his hands between his legs. Snapping twice, Jameson stole Jackie’s attention away from hiding. “What happened?” Those were fresh scars. 

Jackie took in a large breath, making himself rise a couple of inches before exhaling and breaking his bravado. His hands now rested on his lap in a freer manner. Jackie never did talk without his hands. Something the two of them shared, in a sense that is.

“Okay. So. I, um. Uh. god how do i start this. hehmm. I, uh, I had, lied to you. Had everyone lie to you. I wasn’t injured a few days ago. It was, um, a couple weeks ago.” Weeks?! “At first, I thought I would just get better quick. And then that didn’t happen. And I guess I got sorta ... ashamed for not saying anything. So I had Henrik and Chase make excuses for why I wasn’t here. Thinking maybe that I wouldn’t have to worry you so much because I know you don’t like it when I’m reckless.

“But, um. Anyway. I was uh, fighting this guy. And he, he got me real good. Took my leg, my hands, and my powers. Didn’t know that last one at the time though. *sniff* Thought I was just hurt real bad was all. Didn’t die though,” he waggled his finger in the air, “because then I’d break our promise. *sniff* Made sure of that much.” Why did he bring that up?

“So, huhhum. I can’t really use my hands all right right now. ... Got some feeling sometimes. And I can grab stuff if I really focus. But they uh, *sniff, sniff* they don’t work right.

“And I know me saying this doesn’t put right me not telling you sooner. Shoulda just woken you up and given you a big rib-breaking hug is what I shoulda done. And I know I broke our promise of telling you I was safe. Lying just so I wouldn’t have to have you see me all shite like this. But I– I want to be better. A better brother to you. And I *sniff* I want to stop seeing you as just my small brother whom I have to protect because you’re not that, are ya,” he gestured to Jameson with a hand. “Full grown man with a job and hobbies and friends who’ve probably been better at supporting you than I have. *sniff*

“I don’t expect you to trust me, not for a while. But I wanna be better at supporting you, showing you the respect you well deserve.” He breathed a deep breath out and looked up towards the ceiling. “And right now I really wanna walk outta here because I hate that I treated you like shit, but I can’t because of this–” he patted his left leg– “damn irony.” Some nervous laughter, but neither was really laughing. “Hhhhhuuuuuuuhuhhhh. Guess I just have a bad habit at leaving everyone here behind. Too busy trying to deal with easy problems out there. Haven’t really been here for any of you.” Jackie finally stopped rambling. Rested his cheek in his right hand and covered the rest of his face with his left.

This was... fucking hell. How was Jameson supposed to take that? He was already making peace that Jackie kept his injuries a secret. But for that long? I mean– What? what. Why– he’d... he didn’t say anything. He said he didn’t die though. Did he nearly die? Jameson wasn’t like Henrik, getting mad at someone if they died on you. Or like Chase, getting swallowed in grief. Or Jackie putting on that brave facade. He knew he just needed a way to say goodbye.

But– if he could have died, and all he was dealing with right now was broken legs and broken hands? Jamie could deal with that. Would have hugged him too if he wasn’t frozen in place from trying to let it all sink in. And as mad as he could be about that lying, Jackie was beating himself over it already. Didn’t need added isolation from him. They would need to rebuild their communication. But– if Jackie had actually died...

Jameson fiercely grabbed Jackie’s right hand, removing it from his face, making his brother look at him. Jameson’s wasn’t a hero, or a savior, or a protector. But he’d be damned if he was just going to sit here and do nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay. so, big big news. I actually made an outline for the rest of this story (since I really had no clue where to go from here). I have at least 12 chapters planned (and another already drafted). So, there is plenty more to come. And it's only going to get more intense from here on out.


	21. Running in Circles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jameson is fed up with Chase being gone. So, he decides to do something about it. But not everyone is reacting to Chase’s disappearance in the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like how this one turned out  
> trigger warning: mention of suicide

The violin was still going when Henrik tried for the up-teenth time focus. His hearing would be soon. Maybe as soon as next week. Walking through the surgery in his mind, it didn’t add up. He made an incision, called for suction to get visibility, and clamped and cauterized vessels to get the bleeding under control. Simple. Routine. If he’d messed up there, a nurse would have caught it. Maybe he could have had a general trauma surgeon look it over before closing, or done a temporary closing.

But he had moved on to the ribs. There weren’t signs that any fracture fragments had punctured a lung or the heart. So maybe not entirely life-threatening, but he had to remove the pieces before they migrated elsewhere. He was careful. Made sure to get all of them. Made sure to cauterize any small bleeders they had cause. Maybe he could have somehow ripped open a blood vessel or punctured an organ, but surely someone would have noticed.

The leg had already been corrected and was still pink (and bruised) and not swollen. The fractured wrist could wait. There were more critical patients waiting. But then BP started crashing and they had to do cardiac massage and– 

*Two aggressive Knocks*

“Christs!–” But the door was already open, framing Jameson, standing with a wider stance, arms out beside him instead of at his center, and just a much bigger presence than normal. “What–” Couldn’t even convey his full vexation at the interruption before Jameson further intruded and seized his wrist. Forcefully pulling Henrik out of his chair and onto his feet, Jameson dragged his reluctant brother through the hallway to the living room.

“Stop!” Henrik yanked his hand free from Jameson’s, causing the man to his head with a scowl. “Words, Jameson!”

Turning fully around, Jameson simply stated. “Car. Now!”

“Why?!” There was no conceivable reason for Jameson to be this aggressive. Yes, sometimes he would be when they weren’t listening to him, and justifiably so, but Jameson hadn’t even given him a chance this time.

“Come!” Jameson grabbed for Henrik’s wrist again, but Henrik was quick enough this time to evade. It was almost impossible how deeply slanted Jameson’s eyebrows were and how quickly he could change expressions from being determined in his endeavors to blaming you for everything wrong in the world.

“I can walk on my own,” Henrik replied curtly, trying to walk past Jameson only to have the dapper man move double time ahead, forgetting any basic essentials in the process. Luckily, Henrik picked up his and Jameson’s wallets on the way out. Locked the door behind him before leisurely getting in the passenger side of Jameson’s car.

There was a great huff from Jameson before turning the engine on. Cautious as ever, he took his time backing out, but immediately broke that by racing to the stop sign at the end of the street. “Jesus Jamie!” Henrik swiveled his head to discover their other brother seated behind Jameson. “Can you be a bit more careful on the stopping?” Jackie started rubbing his chest under the seat belt. Henrik thought about scolding Jameson, but he was mature enough to mentally acknowledge and correct the problem. No sense piling on.

“You happen to know what this is about?” Henrik directed his attention towards Jackie. Wasn’t about to risk his life by asking Jameson.

“Pretty sure we’re gonna look for Chase.” Seems Jameson had been just as explanatory with him.

Directing his attention back at Jameson, Henrik started stating, “I already informed the police. They’re working on it and will let us know if they find something. It’s only been four days. Can’t imagine he’s gotten in much trouble. And he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and kill himself again.”

“Jamie, smack him.” But Jameson’s fist had already harshly collided with Henrik’s shoulder, sending him a noticeable distance towards the window.

“Hey! I know–”

“No! Unh uh,” Jackie interrupted louder. “We don’t know that– _you_ don’t know that. Chase _isn’t Fine!_ And the fact we haven’t heard anything makes it worse! I certainly _hope_ Chase isn’t going to attempt again, but we have no idea what dark, twisted thought caused him to leave.”

Henrik wasn’t wrong. He _knew_ Chase didn’t have it in him to take his life, at least not in any similar manner. Same reason he couldn’t wear a turtleneck sweater, or a scarf, or let Jackie give him shoulder rubs. But more than that, “Don’t act like this was some random relapse. You said it yourself that you probably triggered him the day he left. Last text he sent, _‘Talk to Jackie please’_. Obviously something you said or did caused him to start spiraling.”

“Doesn’t matter what happened. Fact is, he’s missing! Don’t you get that? Aren’t you worried _at all_ for him?!” That face, dumbfounded that he had to explain, or even ask these questions. If he’d been paying attention, this would have been obvious to him.

“No, I’m not.” Henrik finally faced forward again, arms folded across his chest.

There were gasps and noises in defiance from the back, but Henrik remained steady. Chase was immature, in a lot of aspects. But combine the trauma with the bit of fighter in him, and he’d handle himself in any batch of trouble. Physical trouble, anyway. And Henrik had taught him basic medicinal practices, so he’d be safe on that front too, if he needed it. And when he came home, he’d be smothered with hugs and love from the other two. Maybe Henrik’d yell his ear off for worrying them, maybe not. But Henrik could feel in his bones when it was time to be scared for someone. Now was not that time. 

Suddenly his blood sped up though. Followed by a large swerve and honking. Henrik’s hand gripped at his heart after it skipped a beat or two. Looking at Jameson, he was getting red in the face and seemed to have more labored breathing. “Jameson, pull over,” Henrik said, still very shaken. Wasn’t angry with him at all. Quite the opposite really. But there weren’t any readily available spaces, and they were just lucky the side road Jameson veered onto was more barren. Shakily putting it into park, Henrik immediately jumped out and went to help Jameson. The driver door was already open by the time he’d made his way around. Slamming it, Jameson stood there for a moment. Henrik tried to see if Jameson was sweating and was about to start asking questions.

There wasn’t a chance to even start expressing his concern before a shove caused him to stumble back a few feet. Another swat came, but Henrik was already on the defense, moving backwards. And Jameson just kept advancing, his hands balling into fists. Movements random, almost like he wasn’t trying to hit Henrik (though, most certainly, he was). And suddenly, Henrik stopped. Jameson’s fists collided with Henrik’s chest, but they weren’t hard blows. There were a couple soft hits in the same spot, but nothing that hurt. His fists lay on Henrik’s chest after he was satisfied. Jameson sniffed as he bent his head towards the ground, top of his hair butting up against his hands. Not a heart attack. An attack on his heart.

Knowing he should try and console Jameson, Henrik reached around to put a hand on his brother’s back. At the slightest touch, Jameson retreated though, tears brimming. “He could be dead!”

It took a moment for Henrik to regain his bearings. “I’m sure he’s–”

“Jackie nearly died!” He hadn’t told Jamie that. Seems Jackie actually took his advice. “He’s not here! You don’t know!” Jamie’s hands were fast and Henrik needed a moment to translate.

“Can you calm down a bit Jameson? It’s kinda hard to see your signs.”

Jameson closed his eyes and huffed in a big breath. “How can I be calm? You don’t even care that he’s gone!” Snot started dribbling out of his nose as water streamed down from his eyes. And his diaphragm was starting to spasm, staggering Jameson’s breaths. Great.

“That’s not true. But– Ugh– we can’t keep talking like this. This’ll be easier with a pad.” Henrik started to move Jameson towards the car again. Jameson protested, trying to claw at Henrik, and making his legs go in the wrong direction, but Henrik wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Yeah, I know, I’m an ass. But you need water and tissues.”

Henrik opened the back passenger door. Multiple reasons popped into his head: Jameson was in no condition to drive, if he was going to drive all them he shouldn’t be reading, Jackie could be a literal voice for Jameson (and it doubled their odds of saying something to him that had far too much bitter bite to it). But as his brother was reluctantly getting in, a fourth reason popped up. Jackie could bond with Jameson. Not just hugging, but having a common enemy. Most common role he was cast as. But he would take. He’d always take it. He was strong enough to take it if they were okay. “Make sure he buckles up,” Henrik called to Jackie, shutting the door.

Climbing into the driver seat, Henrik leaned far over to the glove compartment and took the notepad and pen stashed away. He handed it back, Jameson taking it, making sure his disdain for this was written all over his face. “What did you say to him, Henrik?”

Ignoring that for now, Henrik turned the key and the engine roared to life. If this was a search, they’d need to look for hidden places. Places Chase would feel like he wouldn’t be found. That meant out of town. General course in mind, Henrik turned the car around and started getting comfortable in Jameson’s car. “Here,” Henrik spoke, blindly passing back the water bottle in the cup holder. Someone eventually took it.

For the first few minutes, all that Henrik could hear was Jameson’s crying and Jackie’s small reassurances. But peace and quiet was only a temporary state. “Why don’t you care that Chase is missing?” Jackie criticized.

“You think I’d be driving on this goose chase if I didn’t care?” Henrik snapped back. Deep breath. “I just have more faith in him than either of you.”

“Ha! Since when did _you_ have faith in Chase? You’re always lecturing him and chastising him. Never once encouraging or supporting him! Just expecting him to do what you say.”

“While you may hug and coddle him, Jackie, _I_ see how he behaves. I know what patterns he follows and what he can and cannot do. And he’s not gonna let himself die, I can tell you that.”

“But you don’t know that! He tried to kill himself just a couple of months ago!! Can’t imagine you’d forget seeing as you’re the one who found him! Or have you already blocked that out of your memory?! You think having him be mindful has taken him out of his depression? Or has made him in any way block out those thoughts?!? You’re a doctor for fucks sake!! You of all people should know how dangerous being alone could be for him.”

Henrik’s grip on the wheel tightened. “Yes. I know that! _And_ , I ALSO know what trauma looks like. And how you try and avoid anything to trigger those feelings and images again.”

“He wouldn’t be traumatized if you had just shown up for him in court! I would think you of all people would know what it’s like to have your kid stripped away from you.”

“Don’t you DARE bring Phillip into this!” No, no. He wouldn’t get into this. This was about Chase right now. “And Chase was traumatized from his suicide attempt you numbskull! Or have you not noticed that?” No quick remarks. Good let that sink in. “He’s not gonna try and kill himself again anytime soon. And he’s not stupid enough to lose in a fight. You very well may have triggered a downward spiral Jackie, but he’s not gonna die because of it.”

There was the sound of scrawling on paper. “What if he crashed his car? Or what if he used a gun this time? You can’t know that he couldn’t do that.”

“Actions and thoughts are not the same, Jackie. He still would have to choose death, knowing the pain that comes if it’s not as quick as he hopes. Feeling that same agony of not breathing, in some way, again. As hopeless as things can be, that’s not an experience worth repeating.”

“Look. Can’t you just admit this is scary? Not everything boils down to behavioral analysis that you can predict! Our brother has been missing for Four. Days. And the fact that you’re not worried is even more worrying.”

“No, Jackie. I can’t! Because despite how reckless, impulsive, and immature he can be, I have tried all my life to be there to help and protect him! Even since he was a small toddler, I have been fighting to give him a better life than the one he was dealt! I shouldn’t have to say it. Chase hates me more than he likes me, but I’m still there despite that. And we come to an understanding again. And I refuse to believe he won’t just come back like he always has.” Now Henrik was starting to get emotional. But, he just wiped the start of his tears away. “He’s coming back, alright?”

Silence. It was even worse than the fuming was. Anger was passionate. Meant there was some deep motivation. But this? It was like everything was out in the open and no one was absorbing anything.

There was a scribble. “How can you be sure we’re enough?” Jameson’s question then. Henrik wouldn’t claim to know Chase’s inner thoughts. Wouldn’t dare try to figure them out. But, he knew this much.

“Why did you choose not to die?” Adrenaline could only do so much for the body. Hope had to be interlaced if a man had any chance of surviving near death experiences.

The streets weren’t lined with cars, but there were some scattered about. Motels, campsites, maybe a hotel. They were good places to give a once over. But nothing still.

“I’m afraid.” Henrik perked his ear up. “I’m afraid Chase didn’t have a choice in the matter.” There was scribbling down, but Jackie didn’t do Henrik the courtesy of reading it aloud. “I– oh no.”

“What?”

“no. no, no no.” Henrik glanced back and saw Jackie cradling his head in his hands, shaking back and forth. Suddenly, his head shot back up. “I have to go back home.” His tone shifted completely, from despondent to more desperate. “We have to go home now.”

“I thought we were out here, looking for Chase.”

“This will help with that. Promise.”

“Then care to tell me where I should look?” Radio silence.

“I need to take a look at some papers to tell you for sure. But I can find him. Promise.” His usual resoluteness wasn’t there. Most definitely. He was lying, but this drive was also going to be a fruitless endeavor; a sham to make them feel better about not being able to find him.

“Jameson, you okay with that? Twice for yes.” Two knocks on the glass. “Alright then.”

“Jameson, can I have your notepad? Need to write down some things.” Henrik didn’t see it happen, but the exchange must have occurred. The entire ride back had background music composed of scratching and scrawling and flipping of pages. Henrik was amazed that Jackie never once took a break, never complained of pain, or let himself slip for a moment. He would have called it a miracle, if he believed in such things.

But something that nearly was miraculous was the sight in the driveway. Chase’s grey sedan, sitting in the driveway like it was any other normal day. And though he would never have said this aloud to anyone, Henrik found his heart fluttering as he took it in. Because for all his suredness in Chase, something inside him was scared. The tiniest part of him, the part that saw Chase as that same small kid who needed protection. The part that knew he had failed to protect Chase from his mental demons. The part that knew faith didn’t matter if pain outweighed support. The part that was so soft and squishy for his brother that he would just run into the house and hug him and tousle his hair and just take in the feeling of holding him safe in his arms.


	22. Homecoming 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase is finally home!! Wowwiee! It should be a happy occasion. And in general, it is. You just have to get past all the fear and worry first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: mentions of suicide, intrusive thoughts, and self harm

Fuck. Why was this so hard? Chase shifted in his seat on the park bench, folding his left foot onto his lap. The wind picked up again and started biting at his ears. Shoving his hands in his pockets and squishing his neck down into his coat, Chase tried to keep himself warm. Maybe he could have done this thinking at home. Would certainly be warmer there. Not as wide open though. Not enough space to think.

But it had been time, hours maybe? Never could correctly feel time move. But all this thinking was just as empty as the space around him. Searching for words led to searching eyes and watching the trees blow. Leaving no words in his head. But that was far better than the intrusive thoughts he had been dealing with. (Can they be called intrusive if you entertain them though?) Add that to the mental list.

The sun got blocked by the clouds and the cold wind thrashed at him again. How was he even supposed to start? He’d come back, but it just... He felt compelled to come back home. Maybe not compelled, but just an overwhelming urge to be home again. He imagined that he would walk in the door, maybe shout ‘I’m home’ (though maybe that was too hard on the nose), and JJ or Jackie would come and flood him with hugs. Probably wouldn’t let him out of one of their sight for days. Would get a strong lecture from Henrik, but that was fine. Even started missing the bastard during his escapade. There was a stirring that Chase was going to forgive him. Fault didn’t exactly matter if Jackie was safe now. And either he’d learned his lesson, or he’d repeat it and face almost the exact same consequences. That wasn’t his own thought. Sounded more like Henrik’s. More like Henrik ranting about Jackie getting injured again. Maybe Jackie would learn.. Maybe Chase would learn...

But no one was home. Henrik’s car was still in the drive, but he wasn’t anywhere to be found. It seemed that he and Jamie went out somewhere. Maybe to visit Jackie at the hospital. And even though Chase really wanted to be home again, this wasn’t it. And he couldn’t just sit on the couch, waiting. If he was waiting, they’d expect an explanation. For why he ran away, where he was, what the hell Chase... And he couldn’t take that kind of pressure. So, he did what he always did and left. Though, after being here for... time, he started thinking the outcome would have probably been the same: him being snuggled by Jamie and Henrik yelling at him, if Jamie was more happy than upset to see him. Chase wouldn’t blame him if he was just as mad as Henrik. Worrying him all like that. Must be tough on him, having Jackie essentially MIA and now him too. Jamie deserved better than them.

How was it the Chase seemed like the only coward in the family? Jackie hiding from Jamie this time was an exception to the rule. He was a fighter, often barreling himself into situations before giving them a second thought (illegal or interpersonal). Jamie had picked up that same fighting instinct, but maybe because he had so much that made him different. That if he just kept quiet that he’d be invisible. And Henrik. It wasn’t the army that beat discipline into that man. Wasn’t even dad’s death that did it, at least he thought. Though, having to suddenly take care of three younger siblings certainly piled on the responsibility. Chase never did try and help him out... But, there were gaps in his memory of his childhood. Few events, just feelings. And he always remembered the feeling that Henrik was there for him, that he fought for him. Maybe that’s why he still listened through every one of Henrik’s lectures, even if he didn’t absorb them all at once.

Chase sighed, laying fully down on the park bench, hands folded atop his stomach now. His solution was always to run away from things. And that’s what he was doing now, wasn’t it? Ran away from Jackie when he wouldn’t fight for himself, ran away from their house. Ran from his family, from his responsibilities.  _ It would be just easier if I killed myself _ . Exhausted, Chase shook his head. Never made the thought go away, but it made him feel like he didn’t actually want it.

And that’s just it, wasn’t it. There was no easy answer to anything. You want to kill yourself, just don’t. Yeah, like it was that simple. No,no... life was about doing not so simple things. Like admitting you feel so alone. And giving your family the chance to talk to you. Could always have conversations in your head, but real life was far more... intriguing, unpredictable. Terrifying as all hell really.

Whether out of fear, desire to fight fear, or the inability to stay still, Chase slumped his legs off the wood and made his body stand on its own two feet. His walk back was peaceful, watching the motion of the clouds and the trees. He was getting really good at this watching nature thing.

Chase halted at the end of the drive. Three cars now. Someone was home then. If not both of them, then at least Jamie. Taking a breath in and out, Chase started moving again. He just wanted to be home. Kept repeating that in his head even though his steps became heavier and his gut sent tireless signals to turn and run.

Keying in the code, there was just the tiny beep. Chase laid his hand on the door handle. For a moment, it lay frozen. But, as all things must, it didn’t stay that way. Pushing down and in, Chase entered the house. Without looking around, he shut the door and hung his coat on the rack. Finally, he removed his phone from his coat and stuffed it in his jean pocket. At this point, it served no other purpose than as something familiar and normal.

Then there was the skittering. Shoes moving in the house. Mindlessly taking off his own shoes with his feet, Chase turned to see which brother probably would crash into him first. Apparently he was wrong about that though. Jamie stood maybe a foot next to him, stopped dead in his tracks. Always the polite one, waiting for you to acknowledge his presence before launching a hug attack.

Of course, Chase always reciprocated because hugs were the best things in the world. But this was far different. Both of them squeezing a little tighter, pressing a little closer, staying longer. Chase shifted his head a bit to fit right into the crook of JJ’s neck. Didn’t know why, it just felt right. He could’ve (probably would’ve) broken down right there, but his hand tapped Jamie twice, signaling Jamie to pull away. Chase managed to grab a hold of his hand though, not once breaking their touch. It was obvious Jamie wasn’t going anywhere, so why was Chase holding onto him so tight?

“Come,” Jamie motioned with his free hand. Taking advantage of Chase’s grip, even reciprocating with his own grasp, Jamie led his brother into the living room. There were two chairs there now: the armchair and a dining chair, paired right next to each other. But then his eye drifted to the side and the couch. Henrik was there, but more astonishingly, so was Jackie. Tripping over his own steps, Chase was face planted on the floor at Jamie’s feet. Quickly turning over, he stared back up at what had to be a hallucination, one that wasn’t fading.

“Jackie?” Chase scrambled up to his feet, still barely having any sensation besides the confounding nature that was turning in his brain.

Flabbergasted, Chase all but broke when he heard, “Chase?” escape those lips. In a flash, he was at the couch, bending over, hugging the shit out of Jackie. Awkward as all hell, trying to wrap his arms from up above around Jackie’s torso. Nuzzling him with his head like a cat would. But my god this was real. He was clear enough to come home. 

There wasn’t a full hug, but Chase felt Jackie’s hands made their way onto Chase’s back. And then his neurons really started firing. Pulling back, he tried to actually take in the fact his brother was here. “When– When? Hh– God it’s good to see you home!”

“ I’m more excited to see  _ you _ home, Chase. ”

“And if you would sit down before you start falling again–” Henrik added rapidly. “I think we’d all appreciate keeping you in one piece.” Wasn’t loving, but that never was Henrik’s style. Still, Chase couldn’t help but go over and give him a quick, close squeeze (hug for the man who doesn’t hug) before claiming the padded seat next to Jamie. For a split second, he thought of asking JJ to switch, but then his brother laid a firm hand tenderly on his arm. Chase wasn’t going anywhere, but for now, that was completely okay. He patted Jamie’s hand twice before facing the couched people. But even out of sight, Jamie made sure his presence was always known, through either small rubs, pats, or just a warm touch.

“I really missed you guys.” Chase just couldn’t stop staring, moving from brother to brother to brother. Almost like his brain was trying to memorize their faces even though he could already pick them out of a large crowd. Didn’t even bother him that he was the only one smiling.

“So I, uh, I guess it’s better to just be straight.” It was strange to hear shaking in Jackie’s voice. “Where– where were you?” And despite already knowing this would be asked, Chase’s heart still dropped in his chest. It would be easy to lie, say he was just at a motel, watching daytime TV. Imagine he actually did that, how comfy that would have been. But that was wrong. No one was angry (yet). Folded or fidgeting hands, out-turned eyebrows, wavering mouths, and all eyes focused on him. Even Henrik was doing his best to stay at a calmer neutral. No one was mad, and at least one of them would be able to tell if he was lying.

“I was camping.” If camping involved spending all your time outside and then sleeping in your car. “That little site, about 2 hours out. You all remember, right?” He remembered they had a family retreat there one time, and couldn’t remember anything else besides JJ being very upset with how many bugs there were. But, he did used to take Adrianna and Erika there. Before... It probably wasn’t the best hideaway he could have picked.

Jackie continued being chief questioner. Made Chase wonder where his list was though. “What were you doing that whole time?”

“Thinking. About a lot of stuff.” Sometimes intrusive thoughts, sometimes good ones. Sometimes crying to himself and screaming because no one else was around.

The seat wasn’t comfy anymore. Didn’t like the bend in his knees. So without warning, Chase got up, moved about two feet, then laid down flat on the carpet. Stomach up, hands interlaced atop it, eyes closed. Breathe in, breathe out. This felt much better.

“Whyyyyyyy...” This wasn’t his question. Here we go. “Why’d you come back?”

Chase opened his eyes to try and get a look at Jackie, but he was just the same as before. But at least this was an easy one to answer.“Because I just really wanted to be home.” Just an unexpected one to hear. Half-expected– no, fully expected him to ask why he left. Maybe Jackie already told them about their fight. But that wasn’t the real reason he ran. Part of it, yes, in a sense. Maybe he’d be ready for that story later.

Jamie decided to join Chase on the floor. Same exact position, though Jamie looked far more elegant in it of course. What was more surprising though was that he wasn’t butted up right against Chase or trying to hold his hand. Personal space, while always appreciated, wasn’t something Chase was expecting right now. 

“You’re all being so  _ calm _ about this,” he started, not exactly sure how he would end. “What do you really want to ask me?”

“We’re not trying to interrogate you Chase. We just want to know that you’re safe.”

“So–” Chase turned to his side and propped himself up to look correctly above the table– “ask me if I did anything dangerous, or if I tried to do anything reckless then.” Chase laid himself back down. “No sense trying to sugar coat trying to ask if I tried to kill myself again.” And the thought reared its head again. But Chase shrugged it off. Now was not the time to entertain it or logic against it.

It was quiet for a moment. Seemed no one really wanted to acknowledge it. Neither did he, but reminders were part of his daily life. Pretty hard to ignore and prance around then. “Did you try to hurt yourself?” Henrik finally spoke. Chase wasn’t sure if he was concerned, disappointed, angry, or taking place as moderator. He sounded like his big brother though.

“Once. Small nick before I stopped.” Self-harm, in a physical sense, was never how he dealt with his demons. Physical destruction, kicking, punching, that sort of thing, if he could find the space. Wasn’t even sure how he got that knife from the hospital in the first place.

“Were you injured in any other way, intentional or not?”

“No more than getting a bit too cold.”

“Did you leave because of one of us?” There were some shoving sounds, a few slaps, and the sound of Henrik glaring down someone.

“Not really.” Yes, they were part of the pieces, but not  _ the _ reason. Hated lying to JJ, hated Henrik, hated how insensitive Jackie had been. But that wasn’t more than just life. Something in him just kinda... snapped. And he just wanted to not be in his life for a bit. “Just needed to take a pause on life. Needed to be alone for a bit.” It felt good to not feel expected to do something. There had been guilt for saying nothing, but he also enjoyed just being by that stream. Looking at the fire. Wrapping a blanket around his shoulders. Craning his neck to look at the stars. Listening to the trees move. His thoughts weren’t peaceful, but the environment was. And he felt okay enough to let out all that tension. Let the bad come in, because the world was big enough to take it now.

“Is there anything that you need to tell us?”

“Not that can’t wait ’til later.” He’d let them settle. Let them think of new questions. Maybe he’d tell them about all of it if he stayed up far too late. But not right now.

He wanted to ask what he missed, but those words were too much. “Is there anything that you need to tell me?”

“Well, Jackie’s home.” Everyone started to laugh at Henrik’s first funny joke. It prompted Chase to move from the floor. He stood behind Jackie’s spot on the couch, leaned far over and gave him a hug as best he could. Didn’t let go for a while, just stood there for longer. Breathed in and just enjoyed that his brother was okay enough to be home.

Chase was a broken man. No one could convince him otherwise. But he felt more whole now. And his brothers probably felt like a piece of their lives were missing when they were gone. Hopefully they would all be more whole again.

Jackie found the strength to grip Chase’s arms. The little tingle of Jackie’s energy pricked at Chase’s skin. He took a deep breath through his nose and let out a big smile. His brother was getting better. Hopefully, now that he was home, things would be getting better for all of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so this is far harder to write than it has been (partly pressure to do certain things in my life) and i've had trouble finding motivation lately, DESPITE knowing exactly what i'm doing. I've also been feeling like my writing is slight rubbish because I can't give you more than just thoughts and a few pieces of dialogue (no seriously. There is so little dialogue in this). Sorry there's so little real action in this.  
> But, to try and stir up excitement, I'll give you a small insight into next chapter. Jackie must talk about the terror cat, to his whole family.


	23. Flood Gates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackie's boiling up and over. There are just far too many things and changes and stresses going on for this to be at all normal. But everyone is at home now. He at least has that going for him. Everyone is home.

Chase was home. And it had overwhelmed Jackie. To a point where he was frozen with feelings. There was so much all at once. Of course he was beyond overjoyed that Chase was home, safe and sound. And if he had any way of doing it, he’d stay attached to Chase indefinitely to ensure that his safety. He’d say whatever he needed to make him stay. But that worry couldn’t just evaporate at the drop of a hat (or a coat in Chase’s case). Chase didn’t talk much about what had happened during his absence. Jackie needed to know though. Chase had said he was fine, but Chase lied. They knew Chase would lie about his pain. More details meant more likely to hear a story. And stories, once large enough, were too confusing to keep as a bundle of lies.

And this duality left him paralyzed in the moment, almost numb, because he knew what he was supposed to be feeling, but it all just seemed to cancel itself out. When they’d all realized Chase would be home soon, they’d made a list of questions. Everyone proposing what they wanted to know– no, ways to understand. Because Chase had to know they were all worried about him. That they’d be devastated to find his dead body for real this time. And Jackie had to object to those guilt-ridden questions. But there was still that list to satisfy his brothers. Jackie would have been alright just hugging him for an uncomfortably long hours on end. And that’s why he had to be chief examiner, so Chase knew they still loved him.

Jackie wouldn’t claim to love him more than any of his other brothers, or that he was the most affectionate. But he had spent that ride preparing, writing, getting ready to sacrifice himself because he loved his brothers. Those plans were interrupted at the discovery of the silver sedan, but the thought of his magical opponent keeping his brother captive...

The floor was a better place to lay down than the couch. Henrik had left the three idiots to their childish ways of just being close. Chase sandwiched between the other two. No one had talked for a bit. There was a thought to put the TV on to fill the silence, but he didn’t make a move. Simply huffed at the silence, patting Chase’s stomach. Of course there was a lot they needed to talk about. The small stuff, like what would they have for dinner in about an hour (or whenever the first persons’s stomach rumbled). Or how Jackie could now grasp things. No, he didn’t need to talk about that. Just squeezed Chase’s arm softly. Maybe he could bring up Jamie’s crush, but it didn’t feel right to shift focus. Unless focus needed to be shifted. See, that was the problem with not knowing what really happened. Didn’t know if they should focus conversation on Chase and his needs or just distractions and anything BUT him. Breath in and out as the larger things pushed their way to the surface. Like how neither of his brothers had gone in to work, as far as he knew, the past few days. He didn’t need them at home, but it felt good (awkward, but good). But his return had sparked that cat’s presence. And there was an immediate threat looming. There was just no way to break it to any of them gently. Threats weren’t gentle. But, if he could keep an eye on them, never far away, ear always attuned to movements, then he could get through today. Maybe even through the night if he could convince them to sleep by his side. But that only prolonged the inevitability of having to tell them. Of course he had to tell them. He had to protect them. And they had to be on guard. All at once. No piecemiel telling. Let them hate him for keeping it a secret. As long as they wouldn’t be snatched. Jackie scooched closer to Chase, wrapping an arm around his shoulders far enough to lay a hand comfortably on Jameson. No one was going to take his family from him if he had any hand in it. No monster, no demon, no magic in the universe.

Chase was the first to lift himself off the ground. Jamie shortly followed, but Jackie remained laying there. His mind immediately wanted to try and do sit-ups again, but no, no... He just stayed still as there was some clanging in the kitchen. Seems Chase was having Jamie be sous for him. Which also meant they all had to hope Jamie would season things. But eyes still affixed to the ceiling, Jackie let himself continue to think. Drifting between reality, the past, the future, his worries, and his certainites. All of it spelling one big truth. Tears started to roll down his cheeks. He was beyond grateful that his family was okay. They were all there, and they were all alive.

Smells emanated from the kitchen as timers started buzzing off. “Dinner’s nearly ready!” Chase called out to the entire first floor. Finally, Jackie perked up, rolling onto his side and then into a criss-cross. Standing was getting easier, especially when using the support of an entire table. Carefully and with specific purpose in each step, Jackie paced his way over to the dining table. He took his usual (or, what would have been usual if he’d ever been at full family meals) seat, stretching his braced leg to the side to give it room to breathe. Would have been comfier to lift it onto the opposite chair, but then he’d have to move it for Chase anyway.

The sound of plates sliding against each other automatically seemed to activate Jackie’s stomach. Chicken and garlic scents rose to his nose and his mouth started to salivate. “Alright,” Chase said, slightly exhausted but with a sense of accomplishment. “What we–” Seems everyone had a different idea of dinner. The mere fact that Chase had left out the kitchen into the living room suggested he planned on eating at the couch. Jamie seemed to concur as well, delicately carrying his plate in tow. It took a moment for Chase’s wandering gaze to finally rest on Jackie’s actual position and not his expected place. “Didn’t realize we were having a formal dinner.”

“No, we don’t hav– I mean, if you wan–”

“No, it’s fine, fine.” Chase made the short journey to the table, setting his plate down across from Jackie’s spot. “Probably better anyway,” he admitted while Jamie set his spot to Chase’s right. Decently good looking meal. Broccoli and some form of pasta drowned with alfredo sauce and topped with bits of chicken. “I’ll get you a plate.” Jackie’s first instinct was to protest, even reached out his hand, but the words didn’t come out. Retracting his hand after a second, his mind was settled. That was the best option at this time. He’d have to learn to be okay relying on them for things for now.

Jamie made himself useful by placing the water glasses out. Henrik finally arrived from down the long hall, steps as heavy as they were in the early dawn of morning. His eyes made contact with Jackie’s, but after a short pause, he redirected to the kitchen.

Everyone but Henrik was finally seated, not upright like Jamie (though they all always made some effort to be better), waiting to start. “Hey Hen–”

“Start without me,” he called, the tired ringing clear.

Chase shrugged, “eh,” fork already in hand and immediately spearing a broccoli. Jackie looked down at his plate. At least this was shell pasta and not one of those long noodle-y ones. Made it easier to maneuver if he only had to stick it or scoop it, not cut it. After his first bite of pasta, it became evidently clear that this could not be a normal dinner.

“Oh! I forgot. You can’t work your hands. Or, couldn’t. Sorry.”

“No, I can work them alright Chase,” Jackie assured, demonstrating with a masterful spearing of a chunk of chicken. “Just have to work harder at it is all.” Placing the meat in his mouth, Jackie scanned his plate for his next prey.

Swallowing, Chase continued. “When’d that happen?”

“Morning after you left, actually...” Jackie trailed. Seems Chase had been right that he was getting better. Was it a good idea to admit that he was right in that tirade? “All the doctors got excited, even ol’ Schneep.” As if on cue, Henrik walked out and took his place on Jackie’s left, completing their now complete square at the table.

“Ah man. I would have loved to have seen Henrik’s face when you first showed him.” Chase was wearing that big smile on his face. Used it whenever he was happy or about to get into trouble. Almost looked like Henrik when he’d found out.

“Same as that big grin you got on your face, you big dope,” Henrik interrupted, starting to drink his coffee.

“As if you would ever get that visibly excited about anything,” Chase jabbed right back. If only he really knew. “So do you like, have your powers back and all that too?”

“Well, no.” Jackie was doing his best to keep a good face on. Of course Chase didn’t mean it this way, but it felt like a punch in the gut. “I can feel um, feel my hands, most of the time. And I’ve got some basic motor function back. Most impressive thing I can probably do is write.” Sounded so trivial... but no, keep that smiley face. Even a sad smiley face.

“You’ll get there soon bud, don’t worry.” It almost made Jackie want to cry seeing Chase beaming, actually believing those words that came out of his mouth.

Jackie heard the drop off silverware across from him and a small silence. “Ah, thanks bud, but I didn’t really do much. You got the master palette that makes it so delicious.” Jackie looked up just in time to see Jamie blushing. But then he went back to looking at his food. 

“I assume this is the first proper meal you’ve had in a bit?” It was nice to finally hear some concern from Henrik.

“I’ve been listening to my stomach and making sure I eat Henrik, don’t worry.” It was always such a drag to answer Henrik.

Their oldest brother made a sort of thinking sound, like he was trying to understand Chase’s words. “Take seconds anyway.”

There weren’t any easy topics to talk about. So the clattering of forks and chewing kept irritating Jackie’s ears. “Were you alone?” Everyone paused after the words fell. So silent that Jackie could hear Chase swallow his spit.

“Yes.” His voice raised in pitch at the end, questioning why it even needed to be said.

“You sure? Never felt like someone was watching you, or that you like weren’t in control?”

“Wha– No. What are you even talking about?”

“I–” This was it. No turning back. “There’s a cat. Cat magician. And he’s dangerous. At first, he just tried to kill me. But then when I woke up alive, he didn’t stop. Kept stalking me in my dreams and trying to convince me to join him. And just last night he threatened to kill you guys instead because I won’t listen to him.”

Henrik groaned, prompting Jackie to swiftly turn. “Jackie, are you sure this isn’t just a nightmare? Some manifestation of fears or a guilty conscience for coming within an inch of your life?”

“No! I know he’s real Henrik. Listen! I know it sounds insane, but it’s not. He was the person I fought in the alley. He  _ stole _ my powers and has been taunting me this whole time. He was going to kill Chase before I shielded him with my body that night. And last night, he was going to ‘meet’ Jameson and do god-knows-what before I stopped him at the top of the stairs. He’s been getting more and more aggressive every time I refuse to join him. And I thought–” No, that was a worst case that didn’t happen. “Look. I just want to make sure you guys are all safe, okay?” That should have been the end of it.

“Well,” Chase began, “we’re all safe right now. But more importantly, we care about your safety as well Jackie.” Jameson nodded fervently in agreement.

“But I didn’t know if he took you! And I can’t lose any of you because of someone trying to hurt me!”

silence. Jackie was trying not to bury his head in his hands. He settled on messing up his hair to hide behind.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Henrik was being quite slow with his phrasing for the gravity of the situation.

“Because it was just my problem. He was only threatening me. And you all don’t need to hear about every person I have to fight or that haunts my dreams. It’s only an issue if it gets bigger than me. You all know that.”

“Then you think he might actually be able to kill us.”

“Yes– NO, I don’t know. He’s fast, and can apparently teleport, and he’s learning how to use my powers. But I sensed him coming last time, so I might be able to.. I dunno, get ready.”

“And he only comes in the middle of the night, yes?”

“So far, yes. But I don’t–”

“How about we make an arrangement then. Buddy system during the day if we go out, sleepovers at night. Hm?”

“Fine.” It wasn’t just that simple though. He could take both of them, or sneak up if they were out. Maybe he’d be bold and try to invade their dreams too. Or maybe burn down their house now that all four of them were home. A moving hand drew Jackie’s attention to Jameson.

“I’m sorry you were dealing with this alone this whole time.”

“No, I’m sorry I hadn’t told you sooner Jameson.” Jackie could only look at his brother’s hands; he wasn’t strong enough to meet his gaze. There were far too many lies he was trying to undo and repent for. “I never intended anything to go this out of hand or get any of you involved.” He couldn’t ask for forgiveness if he couldn’t even forgive himself for endangering them.

“Don’t beat yourself up bud.” Chase? Jackie turned to find Chase standing over his shoulder. “At least you’re asking for help now, yeah?” Jackie could only sniffle at that. “Now, as soon as I get back with my second plate, we’re gonna work on just getting you to work your hands and finish that plate okay?”

“Okay?” Jackie croaked out.

And true enough to his word, Chase stayed there through the shakes and sniffles. Blathering on about nonsense with such a positive attitude that Jackie hadn’t seen in a long time. Jamie and Henrik had long since finished and left, reading at the couch so Jackie could see them. But even once his plate was clear, Chase just kept talking with him. Trying to get him to laugh or smile like he was doing a comedy routine. Jackie wanted to ask if Chase actually believed him, realized the danger, but that would only stand to sour this. So, he smiled through it. Even had a few genuine grins in the mix. But his brother was back. Truly.


	24. Bedtime Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's sleepover time, and yet, Chase can't sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and, a day early! seems the piece I wrote had to be split in two.  
> content warning: mentions of war, suicide, self harm

They’d chosen to turn in early (only 10 pm for crying out loud!) for Jackie’s sake. Had to move the coffee table to make room for sleeping bags, or sleeping areas at least, for three of them. Made it hard to justify using his phone after bed when everyone was in full view of each other. Not that anything about this sleepover was as simple as its conception. The sleeping bags were tucked away somewhere in the garage possibly, so blankets and pillows were used to substitute. And Jackie (well, Chase acting on Jackie’s behalf) wouldn’t let Jamie go get linens upstairs on his own. And no one was talking to each other after all the prep was done, just messing about in their own spaces, so Henrik called it a night because it seemed like everyone was doing something meaningless anyway, so sure, why wouldn’t sleep be the best option?

Jamie and Chase took the floor, Henrik claimed the armchair, and Jackie was let have his makeshift couch-bed. And it was surprising how fast his brothers just gave in to sleep. Maybe ten minutes in and Jamie was snoozing away. Henrik followed a bit later (after fidgeting to find the perfect position). By maybe the half hour mark, Jackie was in a low breathing rhythm that had to have calmed his brain enough to lapse into unconsciousness. Leaving Chase there, laying on his side, tossing and turning to try and find a position that would satisfy his body enough to relax.

After maybe an hour of that, Chase resigned himself to laying flat on his back, fingers interlocked and resting softly on his chest. He didn’t know how long he was there, only that his mind wouldn’t pause. He’d closed his eyes, and time had passed, but he wasn’t sure if it was sleep or just listlessness. But by midnight, he was supposed to be the only one still up.

A prolonged shifting caught his ear though. Then some groans as his older brother leaned far forward in his chair. It was a tick before he finally stood up, a yawn escaping as he stretched the stiff out. “Too much coffee before bed?” Chase whispered, making his brother’s shoulders scrunch up at the sound.

“Geez! And no, I just can’t sleep down here,” Henrik whispered loudly.

Chase grabbed his ankle before there was even a chance to escape. “You can’t; you  _ promised _ him.”

Henrik picked up his foot and violently shook it, unfortunately removing Chase. Taking in a breath, he tried to justify this treachery. “Look, they’re just nightmares. Alright? Not real. Apparently he’s traumatized too.”

“You  _ Promised _ Him!”

“Yeah, well, I’ll just slip down bright and early alright? He’s not in any real danger.”

“Why can’t you just once be there for him whether it’s real or not? Hm?! His fear is real, isn’t it? And you’re just gonna ignore that?” But Henrik shuffled away and up the stairs without responding. It was pointless to try and chase after him and argue more. Stubborn. Most stubborn man.

Agitated, Chase huffed as he laid back down. He tried in vain to fall asleep, kept getting interrupted. Partial songs playing in his head. Random clips of memories. Astronomical questions with complex answers. His brain and body were at war, each wanting opposing things and unable to find a compromise.

Chase did physical marks instead then. Move into a historically comfortable position. Tried doing some exercise to tire himself out. Flipped sides of the pillow, switched his position so his head was now where his feet were. Nothing. Running amuck against efforts to silence it, his brain conjured up long forgotten memories. That one math test where he still remembered question 7. Scraping up his knees during a game of soccer. Henrik trying to get him to care more about his studies. Sneaking out to cause some ‘mayhem’. When Henrik went off to college, the first time. 

When he had to get his first job and was so tired all the time.

When Jameson asked for help with his homework, but he wouldn’t always help.

When Jackie got hurt. When he was scared there would be another funeral.

When he started getting serious about adult responsibilities. Working through the struggles. Having those responsibilities taken away without warning. Feeling so desperate, then despair, then just...

Chase opened his eyes wide, but the images still played behind his eyes. He turned again, trying to play an ear worm of a song in his head. Try and remember a good memory. His eyes focused on Jackie up on the couch. Even in the dark, his eyes could still make out his brother’s face. It wasn’t peaceful. His lips were frowning and eyes squinting some. Underneath the sheets, there were slight twitches, both around his arms and legs.

Then there was the noise. Little almost squeaks. Like he was in pain. Almost like whimpering. And his face started to evolve and tense more. And his mouth opened. They were supposed to be screams or cries. The softest ones, almost like when his kids would try and be brave when they got hurt. And now Jackie was the one who could barely contain his pain.

Scurrying to his brother’s side, Chase softly shouted, “Jackie. Jackie! It’s a nightmare.” There were less lines. Eyebrows raised up, releasing tension. “Jackie, it’s alright. I’m here. Chase is here.” His breathing slowed down, his jaw unclenched a touch, and his fidgets steadied themselves. “That’s alright. You’re safe.” Jackie’s mouth finally returned to an open neutral position. “You’re safe.” Chase sat back against the couch, head right underneath Jackie’s.

“I guess Schneep was right that you’re having nightmares,” Chase conceded quietly. “But I don’t think he thinks anything of it.” Chase twiddled his thumbs, starting to let his thoughts out in the open. “Maybe he thinks you’re a fighter, so you can fight this off too. But even heroes get tired, need their rest. I mean,” Chase turned to look at his brother’s face. Quiet, with only the slightest hint of movement from the rise and fall of his breathing. “Look at you right now. Yeah you’re sleeping, but your body is still fighting. Battling to recover from your injuries. Least we can try and do is let your mind rest. That’s what sleep’s for yeah? ... Yeah.”

Chase just sat there, listening to his brother breathe. Letting himself be a guard against the villain trying to bring his brother bad dreams. “You know, I’m glad that you brought up your nightmares at dinner tonight. We don’t really  _ do  _ that in this family. I know everyone’s been a bit touchy around me, but even before. Cause nightmares are real. Maybe not physically, but emotionally. And they’re just as damaging either way. I don’t know if your cat magician is physically real Jackie, but I know you’re fighting a real fight right now. Trust me, I know.”

There was the urge to continue on, but Chase was still so unsure. “Hey, would you like to hear a story Jackie?” He looked back for approval. Just quiet slumber, but that was okay. Quiet was good. Maybe he was dreaming.

“You don’t have to answer. I’ll tell you anyway. Cause I know...” Chase sighed and kept himself quiet a moment. “I know I should tell this to you all. It’s just so hard to find the right way.”

Where should he even begin? Once upon a time? A couple years ago? This is a true story? “This is a story, about a fight. But this fight wasn’t like a regular one. No one was throwing punches, or threatening others’ lives, or trying to outwit you like you superheroes deal with. This was a fight between one man and one alone.

“You see, he was constantly fighting a war, but it was in his brain. There was one voice in his head, his own voice. But sometimes, that voice would say the wrong thing. A thing he didn’t want to hear, or that he didn’t believe, or that was just awful. And for a long time, the man would tell the voice to go stuff it. That it wasn’t right. He was able to tell which was his voice and which was the villainous one.

“But the problem was that as time went on, the villain wasn’t going away. It wouldn’t leave even when he was trying his best to ignore it. So instead, the man tried to prove it wrong. Prove that he wasn’t nothing and that people did love him. And so these battles raged. Missions to find evidence against its outlandish claims. Tossing of words in anger and vitriol. Plans for specific attacks when the enemy reared its head. Analyzing his enemy’s strategies to find effective means to combat it. Getting pushed back when there wasn’t an answer in time and his team fell apart. Grenades of words being hurled both ways. And soon, everything was just a destroyed battlefield, filled with dead thoughts and memories of each tragic loss and impressive victory.

“In his attempts to win this war, it left the man ragged to try and logic with a villain spouting the same nonsense in different packages. But the villain always had the upper hand. Because it was just a thought. It only had one job, one goal, one task. But the man couldn’t say the same. He was far more complex, more than just a thought, and he couldn’t always fight. Sometimes he didn’t have the time to battle, or the energy to bear the burden of proof. And so, his physical life started becoming a battleground too. And pretty soon, the villain clawed its way to an equal footing with the man’s own voice. Each getting a seat at the table without no clue when either party would speak up.

“The man would go through life, hearing this villain in his ear, but working at still keeping his life together on the outside. That’s when the biggest blow came. It wasn’t from the villain, but from the outside world. People left him, took what he loved most. And the man almost couldn’t believe it: the villain had been right.

“Feeling fully defeated, he tried to die. But then people – his family – came to his aid. They did their best to tend to the wounds they saw, and the man felt good again. They gave him small tasks to show he was valued and could do things and make a difference. They didn’t know it, but they were giving him ammunition to use in his fight. And slowly, the villain started to slink away and fade into the shadows. But it never really went away.

“Not too long ago, over the course of a couple days, the man learned a lot of new, stressful things. One brother was hurting, alone, by himself. Almost like the man himself, but a little different. Another brother was letting the hurt one bear his burden alone and keeping this suffering a secret. And the last one was being told nothing out of shame of defeat.

“The man worked tirelessly to try and help his hurt brother. Be support for him because he knew that internal fight. But the villain reared its head again, saying his brother didn’t care about the man’s efforts. The man knew invisible things, like love and gratitude, existed. Invisible things must exist. But he was tired from helping fight a different war and couldn’t bother with his own fight. He accepted the loss and laid in the ditch for a night, waiting for his strength to return.

“The man had witnessed his hurt brother getting stronger and stronger. And one day, the hurt brother and him had an argument. And words were thrown that couldn’t be taken back. In all his attempts to be helpful, the man felt betrayed by his brother. Their argument ended with the man running. He tried to find his other brother to help with this tumultuous battle, but the safe room was empty. And for a single moment, he–

“He cried. Ugly and involved, the kind that you hide. The villain took the opportunity to say that he was in fact unwanted, unwelcome, and unloved. The man was so upset that he believed it true. And his hands tried to end the war again. But he fought his own body and cast the weapon aside. Despite the feelings of inadequacy and like he was invisible and none of his efforts mattered. And so he ran away. Ran away to a big open scene where he could be alone.

“The villain followed him, as it always did. There, they did battle. But this was different than the other times. They debated. The man said the villain was right. He was unwanted at that moment, he didn’t feel loved, and that life would be easier if he were dead.

“But this is where the villain tripped up. Because the man knew what losing the war felt like. He had already markedly tried to declare it over a few months ago. Which also meant he knew what devastation lay in the aftermath if he declared full defeat. And the pain from that still rang in his memory.

“So he yelled at the villain. ‘Yes, I am in pain. But I’m not going to kill myself. I can’t have life if I’m dead. I am cared for because my brothers worked to save me. They may not like me, but they do love me. I may hate them sometimes, but I will always be able to go back to them. I may not feel love, but I know they will be devastated if I am gone. And I don’t want them to hurt like that.’ And so, the villain’s words lost their meaning.

“After days of tending to his wounds, the man went back home and was greeted with hugs. The villain still tried to taunt him, saying he should kill himself. But the man didn’t take it seriously. He was still scarred from all his battles. He was still in a lot of pain. But for now, it seemed he was winning the war. And he knew that with time, he would heal. He would feel love again, eventually. And he wouldn’t cause his brothers that pain. Even if that was the only reason he had to live, he would hold on tight to it. And keep fighting to feel better every day. Knowing that some days would be easier than others.”


	25. This can't be real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase just... he just wants to be there, with his family. And that's so much to ask.  
> Because everything is just going to shit right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't wait until Friday to publish.  
> content warning: mentions of suicide, violence, trauma/ptsd, death

Chase wiped away the tears that had run down his cheeks. His throat spasmed as he tried to breathe in. Some quick breaths helped calm it down. At least this was happening now. And as terrible as the thought was, he was glad everyone was asleep. No one saw that or heard it. He didn’t try to talk for a minute, knowing full well he couldn’t anyways.

“You still asleep?” Chase sniffled, examining his brother’s face. Still as ever. “Yeah, guess so.” He turned to face forward, dragging his knees to his chest and hugging himself a bit. “Would probably be a waste of time to try and get Henrik back down, wouldn’t it? Yeah, yeah... but maybe I should check on him. Make sure he’s not plagued by nightmares too,” he half-chuckled to himself. “At least Jameson never had to deal with any physical harm. I don’t really want to imagine what struggles he’s had to go through, but at least he didn’t break himself.” His mind couldn’t help but flash to the image he’d created of that moment. Chase scrunched his neck and rubbed his knees to try and feel some comfort. His nerve endings felt pricked at the touch, sending signals that they were too sensitive right now. All the scar tissue had long healed over and rejuvenated, but the pain was still there sometimes. 

Resolving to move, Chase stood and quietly walked over to Jameson, moving the blanket up a smidge so it was covering more of him. Jamie in turn nuzzled even closer into his object of warmth, his grip seemingly tightening. Good.

Chase didn’t need to turn on the lights. Simply felt his way around the furniture and walls and up the staircase. He didn’t bother knocking on Henrik’s door, figuring he’d already be asleep by now. His goal wasn’t to wake him up, just check up. He was fine being the only one awake. Probably better that he was the only one awake.

But he wasn’t the only one awake. There was a figure standing over the bed. A figure with green and purple streaks moving out of his hands and into Henrik’s head. His feet moved before his brain had a chance to decide. A full on rush, turning slightly to the side so he knocked into this intruder with the full brunt of his shoulder. The man stumbled back into the table before collapsing to the ground. Chase was already bent down, gripping the shirt to lift this guy back up, letting his right curl into a tight ball as he prepared for contact.

Contact was made, but it was all wrong. It was sparkling, and stopping, and Chase could feel that tingle of electricity. As the man shoved Chase’s fist away, his body started to glow, giving himself full form. And the outlining neon seemed to get brighter as it transitioned from a bright green to an electric blue and peaking at a dark lavender. Forcibly removing Chase’s hand from his shirt, the man stood up to tower over Chase. His eyes were glowing red and his mask, his mask outline turned red and all the details glowed. It– he was actually real. Fuck, he was real.

“You really shouldn’t have done that Brody.” The man clapped his hands together and then slowly started pulling them apart, a purple and red static electricity sparking between them. It, it looked like Jackie’s sparks, but surely it couldn’t– this was–. His body was already scurrying backwards, trying to scooch him away while still keeping his eyes on the immediate danger. But the man kept up all too easy.

“You, you nearly killed my brother,” Chase’s voice betrayed, shaking as he found himself bumping into a hard object.

“And you too,” he taunted, bending down right in front of Chase, hands nearly a foot apart now. “But I won’t make that mistake again.” Chase could have turned and tried to crawl away, but no, he’d surely die. Fuck, his heart was beating in his ears and his mind flashed to when he tried to hang himself and fuck he wouldn’t go through that again.

But the man’s hands drew nearer with no hope of halting their forward progression. He was scared, he was terrified, and he’d just got back to everyone. Please, just don’t let me die here. I don’t want to make them hurt again. His arms had thrust themselves up, forearms colliding with forearms, jolting the cat man’s hands just above his head. Chase could feel the prick of it on his hair. How was he still alive? “You!” he seethed in rage, pushing down on Chase’s arms. But he would fight this. It’s so painful to die. If he could just get him down again.

His eyes peered down to their feet. A split second after his brain saw the opportunity, it swung both legs at one of this madman’s supports, trying to imagine he would just pass right through and that it wasn’t an immovable object. And then there was release and a thud and a sound of biting your own tongue in pain. Wait, that worked. Chase looked stunned at the man on the ground, his hands connecting with his face and chest. No, Henrik. Get Henrik.

Chase scrambled and tripped and stumbled to get over to Henrik’s bed. “Wake up!” He shook Henrik by the shoulders. “NOW!” Henrik was only mildly coming about, but Chase looked back over at this magician. He’d managed to remove his hands from his body, the neon purple showing the aftermath. There was a line of devastation, burnt away fabric now revealing scorched skin. Half his face was unshielded and was glowing a deeper purple than before. And for a moment, Chase thought he recognized that face. It was so familiar. And he was so grateful he wasn’t killed by whatever the lightning strike was. But this was no time to stop. “HENRIK!” Chase started shaking furiously, trying his best not to take his eyes off his opponent, but quickly checking to see if his brother was rousing.

“This isn’t over,” it spat out, actually spitting onto the floor before swirling himself into a cloud of sparkles that disappeared before hitting the floor.

“Whtiztt?” Chase redirected his attention to his brother’s murmuring. 

“Hei– We– gbew hhh–” Chase yanked Henrik straight up. Would’ve picked him up if Henrik wasn’t already batting at his hands. But Chase kept a firm hand. No letting him go– !! No

Chase’s eyes grew wide as he dragged Henrik in a death grip out the door, down the hall, and down the stairs, barely managing to catch himself on a railing before falling head first. But the view opened up, dark, but still visible. He ran over to the other side of the couch. Jackie still calm on the couch. Jameson still curled up. With a heavy sigh, he let everything go. His body felt like it was being soaked in warm water, releasing all the tension as it was sinking in that his family was all still there.

A right smack to the back of his head stopped those warm feelings in their tracks. And now it was his turn to be dragged by Henrik, stumbling down the hallway and behind Henrik’s office door. Henrik flipped the light switch and both boys hid their eyes from the invasive light. Blinking and squinting helped Chase to get a look at Henrik so he could properly address his brother. 

“What the absolutely hell Chase!” Chase barely had a chance to see a hand come from the peripheral to smack the side of his head this time.

“Owww...” Chase wined, rubbing the site of the injury. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For what?!?!” Henrik splayed his arms so far out to his side. Chase was finally adjusted enough to take in his brother’s full stance.

“He was, I dunno, that cat magician man, he was... doing some magic on you.”

“Ha!” Henrik turned as he applied a hand to his forehead. Shaking his head, he finally looked back to Chase. “I can’t believe this. You two aren’t little kids! I shouldn’t have to tell you the difference between reality and figmentations of your dreams! Jeez!”

“No, I was going to check on you Henrik. I apparently interrupted him infiltrating your sleeping mind. Which– wait. Did you see him in your dream?”

“I– I don’t remember.” Henrik darted his eyes to the bottom right corner for a sec. Gotcha.

“But do you have a feeling, or some sort of vague notion or something?”

“No, I– it doesn’t matter.”

“No, it matters. Because if he’s messing with your mind, I need to know. WE need to know.”

“No, no! There was no messing, trust me.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because it wasn’t a dream!” Henrik’s cheeks were red and he was huffing in and out. It took a couple seconds, but he retired to his chair. “My unit was driving and the jeep in front of us was blown up onto its side. I was trying to do triage on the survivors, and they were just bleeding,” he was staring down at his hands, “and it was caking onto my hands and drying so quickly and I had to watch the life go out of his eyes while I was trying–” Deep shallow breath in, “While I was trying to save them.” Henrik didn’t let himself. He would never let himself cry. But that didn’t stop him from wiping at his eyes. “So no, Chase,” he gritted, seemingly recomposed. “My dream has nothing to do with this nonsense! There is no magician trying to kill us. Jackie, is traumatized, like you, like me. And I would appreciate, if you didn’t indulge his delusions.”

Chase was making sounds, at a loss for words. Because he knew what he saw, what he felt. His heart was still speeding by and was only just starting to breathe normally again. “I know I nearly died tonight.” He let silence fall. Henrik didn’t bother turning his gaze up from the ground. “I’m sorry I can’t convince you he’s real. But, even if you think he’s fake, that doesn’t make Jackie’s fear fake, does it?” No shift. “And shouldn’t we be working to not give Jackie reason to fear or worry about our safety? Cause that’s what it’s about, right? He’s afraid this Cat is going to kill us. So why shouldn’t we be doing everything we can to show him that’s not gonna happen? You saw how happy he was when you said we’d be doing another sleepover, and a buddy system. I can see now that was just a lie, which is even worse, but why can’t you? Why can’t you just fucking show that you care Henrik?” That water left his throat and appeared to flood his tears. Chase was okay with crying, now. Crying was good. Meant you had something to lose. “Cause it hurts so fucking much to see you just walk away all apathetic like. We all love him. But he notices you missing. So stop being so frustrating and just, do something silly for once. If you really love him, you’ll do this small thing for him.”

All Chase would focus on were the shadows. He couldn’t bear to see his brother leave them alone again. His feet spurred on first and left the room. Settled along the couch, right near Jackie, able to see Jameson. He’d try to stay up all night. Because that Cat... his mind flashed to that face of sheer rage... and Chase started quivering in his spot. He truly, nearly died tonight, didn’t he. And the tears were flowing freely. Seemed death was never quick. Every instance before it, time slowed down. Enough for you to realize in terror what was going on, and who you were leaving.

There were footsteps. They came closer, then came around, and stopped at the couch. A hand on his shoulder caused Chase to jump, but it was just resting there. Two more pats before Henrik took the armchair. Didn’t seem to take long for the doctor to fall asleep. But Chase? His mind kept replaying the night’s events, flooding his heart and brain with the hurty chemicals. At some point, he let himself fall over to the floor. That face... He knew the person trying to kill him. He was sure he knew. But it wasn’t possible. He tucked his arms tight to his chest. It wasn’t possible. But he nearly died tonight. By an unmasked Cat that looked all too familiar. With Jackie’s powers. While Jackie was sleeping soundly downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should know by now. Nothing good ever happens at night.  
> And now that Chase knows Cat is real....  
> Enjoy the roller-coaster :)


	26. There's Too much to Explain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Sunday morning, and Chase has slept in. How is he going to bring up last night? Explain all the things he thinks he’s figured out? Because it all sounds crazy, and everyone is already stressed enough. But secrets aren’t something he can have right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's 4 pm, but I am tired and want this posted. I hope you enjoy this  
> content warning: mentions of death

Chase’s could feel the grip on his right shoulder shaking him slightly. His head felt heavy against the beneath, face fully numb, and cheek fully squished and imprinted by the hard surface below. But the rousing didn’t cease and he had to see this disturbance. Carpet. Chase had to exert effort to raise his head and then round his body up so he was sitting. A yawn escaped and forced his eyes shut again. Slowly blinking away the sleep, Chase finally saw his brother. “Ja-Jamie?” The gentleman just gave that hospitality smile and a small wave. “What, what time is it?” Chase sluggishly moved his left hand into view. Numbers clearly read 9:30. Sirens went off in his head. Wait, why was that bad? Wait– WaIT!

“Shit, sshhhhhhh,” his mind rushed his body to wake up, scramble to stand on his own two legs. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner???” He wasn’t supposed to fall asleep. No Jackie on the couch. No Henrik in the chair. His eyes were dead set on the kitchen and his legs darted into the empty destination.

“Because you needed it,” Henrik shouted from behind a wall. Peeking his head round the doorway into the dining room, there was Henrik sitting at the table, sipping his morning brew. Chase instinctively wanted to argue the point, but settled on a steaming huff of air. Henrik was aggravating, but right. “Make yourself a bowl of cereal. With milk,” Henrik casually instructed him, taking another sip. Fine, yes, fine. But,

“Where’s Jackie?” A couple taps on his shoulder and Chase was spinning back towards Jamie.

“Bathroom.” Good. Okay. His mind was screaming at him though. Last night was real. He’d felt everything. And he wouldn’t hide this. Confirm Jackie’s warning that they had death threats against them. Pacing back and forth in the kitchen. And Jameson was just trying to make himself Poptarts and get a glass of juice. Even got Chase out a bowl and was gracious enough to remove the milk from the fridge. How could he think of cereal at a time like this?

Running water from beyond the wall. Okay, Jackie would be out soon. Okay, okay. Think. What am I going to say? No, doesn’t matter. What am I doing? What’s my goal? I don’t want to scare Jamie. And I can’t make Henrik believe me. So gameplan. Make a plan. Make action steps. Discussion of how to do that when the two of them leave for work. Jackie and I will look after each other. But how– 

“Stop pacing! Pour some Cheerios why don’t ya?”  _ I wasn’t unsure of what to eat, Henrik. _ Grumbled muttered noises of frustration as Chase aggressively grabbed the Cheerios from the closet. He poured a bit too much into his bowl and nearly overflowed it with milk. Automatically, he got a spoon and carefully maneuvered his way to his seat, making sure not to spill. Didn’t want to eat right now, but what else could he do, waiting on Jackie to be finished. He needed to figure that out too. Because Chase knew he felt Jackie’s spark yesterday afternoon. But Cat definitely had that same energy in his electricity too. His powers were still there, so Cat couldn’t have had them. Not all of them, at least, because how else could he explain why Jackie was so sure he didn’t have them. But Jackie was– should– is sensitive enough to feel different changes in his body. Surely, he would feel even the smallest minuta of his powers if they were there. No. Chase knew they were there. He’d seen the sparkles, felt the heat. They were there alright. In some form. So why didn’t Jackie know? And why wasn’t he healing faster?

A door opening drew his head up and towards the corner wall blocking his view of the bathroom door. Steps, but still no view, and then a hard clack of the boot against tile. Sound of silverware, the fridge, multiple doors and drawers, the breaking off of a banana and its subsequent peeling. Cold eyes of judgement lay on Chase as his brain was too occupied with fear and anticipation to fathom thought or movement in his limbs. Just observation and waiting until everything was in place.

And even then, after Jackie had sat down, his body remained tense and frozen. Jackie was so sweet. Had a small smile on his face as he took his first strong bite of banana and cheerios. His little brother. Always trying to put on a brave face. That’s the brother he knew. Finding some glimmer in darkness. That’s the person he was.

“Seems like you had a good sleep. Got some energy I see?”

Jackie had to swallow before answering. “Yeah. Doesn’t hurt as much today.”

“It's still early in the healing process, you’re allowed to take your pain meds. Don’t need to–”

“I know Henrik, I know.” Jackie took another mouthful of cereal and a couple of chews before swallowing. “But I’m good right now. Promise.” Back to the cereal. Everyone else was partaking in the daily routine of morning breakfast. Nothing routine though. Just smashing everyone’s time tables to match right now. 

Two taps on his shoulder and Chase’s head swiveled to give Jamie an audience. “You should eat, before it gets too soggy.” Jamie smiled at the end. Encouraging. Would have been encouraging.

“Thanks,” Chase nodded in turn, only to look back at his cereal and do nothing but stare at the circles and milk. It would get soggy. What a lovely thing to be able to worry about, soggy cereal.

He wanted to run away. So, he made the decision to go against that. It was getting easier to do that nowadays. “Can we all talk?” Jackie and Jamie turned to look at their brother. Henrik nonchalantly sipped his coffee before going to get another brew.

“Go on,” Jamie encouraged. If Henrik was decent, he’d be listening from the kitchen.

“I think we need a real game plan here. Because we can’t always be on each other 24/7. I mean, you–” Chase gestured to Jamie– “have to go to work later today. And Henrik–” open hand towards the kitchen doorway– “eventually will need to leave too. And I can’t have you just texting us every ten minutes, assuring us you’re okay.”

“Wait, wait,” accompanied by some more waving gestures.

“Yes Jamie.”

“I’m not going to work today.”

“Well, fine, but your next shift or–”

“I’m taking off the next couple of weeks.”

“Jamie, you don’t have to do that. You shouldn’t have to put your life on hold just for me.”

Jamie’s hands were frantically flying, but it would take a moment for him to find the words. “You were injured for weeks and I didn’t know, and then Chase went missing for four whole days, and you tell us last night that there are possible death threats on our heads.” His hands flew up then quickly back down as he just gasped, exacerbated.

“I’m–”

“I think... Jamie is trying to say that he is dealing with a lot,” Chase tried to soften it, knowing full well Jamie could and would (probably should) have gotten more angry if he weren’t so careful about going too far to upset others. “Which, is valid. And all the more reason we need to come up with a plan. Something to focus on yeah? Something to help minimize the stress of the current situation.” What other self-help phrases could he use here? Wasn’t sure he believed them in full, but they seemed to work in de-escalating the room slightly.

“So, you got any suggestions then?” The casual sip made it all the more condescending.

“Well, building off  _ your plan _ –” emphasis to try and make him feel bad for not really believing in it himself– “I think the buddy system could be expanded. Instead of two of us going everywhere, there just needs to be constant interaction. A phone call while you’re in the car. And...” come on, think on the fly, “if you meet up with people, trusted people, have them say they have you and how long you’ll be there.”

“Sounds like helicoperting.”

“Well, this Cat only attacks when you’re alone, so, call it whatever you want, but having a second person there, awake, means safety.”

“But you can’t know that Chase.” Jackie? Looking at his brother, Chase saw a desperately trying-to-be-hopeful Jackie. Skepticism was Henrik’s trademark, not his. But, Chase supposed if he couldn’t zip around to protect them, his only option  _ was _ worry.

“Yes, I can.”

“No, but I just assumed that. If he really does have my powers, he can definitely take on multiple people at once, no question.”

Deep breath. “He doesn’t Jackie. Last night, when I woke up Henrik, he stopped trying to kill me. Vanished in a cloud of purple sparkles that never made it to the floor.”

“Wait, WHAT?!”

“And besides–”

Jackie was standing up, reaching across, hands locked onto Chase’s forearms and pulling him close, meeting above the middle of the table, faces only inches apart. Eyes staring into Chase’s, searching for the lie. Chase wasn’t the one lying here. But after a few seconds, Jackie stopped and his face hardened, eyes focusing up. “I’ll kill him.” His grip released and he pushed himself back to a full stand, making Chase fall back a bit from the force.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Jackie was already trying to walk away. “You don’t have any powers!” That got him to stop half-way through the living room. For once, it was a good thing Henrik knew how to get under their skin. “You’re just going to drive– no, WAlk around, hoping to find him?! And then what! Beat him up?? If he’s as dangerous as you claim, you’ll be dead within a minute. You really think that’s the best thing to do right now?”

Jackie came storming back, completely ignoring the boot on his leg. He grabbed Henrik’s shirt and reeled his arm back. “You wanna hit me? Think it’ll make you feel better? Fine. But for once, just think for fucks sake!” This was all unraveling. They were all unraveling. And even in the sun rays, Chase saw the faintest glow of purple around Jackie’s recoiled fist. But, after a second or two, it faded to green and then to nothing as he lowered his fist and his brother. Head down, Jackie returned to his seat, his bowl spilled over in front of him.

“Now, back to the matter at hand, yes?” Smug smile. Chase scowled at him before turning back to Jackie.

“As I was saying, Jackie does  _ still _ have powers. Nah ah–” Chase started before his brother could protest. “Super healing. Still there. Cause you should have been dead. Maybe the rest are dormant, or some psych thing, I dunno. But you still have them. Alright? Somewhere. So stop lying to yourself and saying you don’t. They’re probably just working overtime to save yourself from yourself. Alright? Just, get back to the root of them and I guarantee you’ll find them.”

Huffing, Chase was finally ready to get back to the true matter of this meeting. And turning to Jamie, it appeared that was all he should do. The man was sitting far back in his chair, arms pressed tightly in, hands wrapped around each other. Chase didn’t mean to stress Jamie out anymore. Fucking hell. “There is no harm to us if we are in a group. Okay? And Jameson...” Jamie was still frozen, looking down at the table, probably avoiding any of this chaos. Chase bent down and gently turned his brother’s head so he could meet his eyes. It was unfair, but Chase looked at Jamie like one of his children. One that just had a nightmare and needed to be reassured there were no monsters under the bed. “I know you know how to fight. I hope it doesn’t come to that, but you are strong. And we’re gonna make a plan to keep you, all of us safe. Alright?” Jamie gave a small nod as tears escaped out of his eyes.

“Alright,” Chase clapped his hands together, standing back up and trying to bring himself back to center, and not think about what just happened. “So. Phones. Location on, always. You want to call? Mine is always on. Traveling. Try and give a time frame. Like I said, phone calls during alone time would be best, and you don’t have to talk, just keep making sounds so we know that you’re alive. Now–”

The doorbell rang, interrupting any train of coherent good thought Chase may have had. Slightly annoyed, he went over to the door since he was the only one already standing. Peering through the side windows, there was a woman there, runner by the looks of it. Not carrying any sort of weapon, well, visible weapon. Looked safe enough that Chase opened the door wide enough for a chat.

“Hi!” Enthusiastic, but she immediately pulled herself back. “I’m um, I’m looking for Jameson? Is he here?”

“And who are you?” More accusatory than inquisitive.

“Oh, sorry, I’m Emma.” She extended her hand to which Chase cautiously shook. “If he’s not here, I can come back another time...”

Chase didn’t know what to think. And he wasn’t given the time to ask her why she needed to see Jamie before the mad lad himself pulled Chase away and pried the door open fully. Graciously inviting her in, he closed the door behind her and the three stood in their make-shift foyer. “Sorry about him, Emma.”

“No, I’m just glad to see you’re okay Jameson. You’ve missed work the past couple of days and haven’t been answering your phone.”

Jameson took a quick look at the corners and walls of the room. “I’ve had a lot going on. Sorry to worry you.”

“Well, like I said, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. And I wanted to let you know I’m here if you wanna talk. I mean, you’ve always been there for me so... Ah, oh–” Emma stared at the table across the way. “I see you’ve already been talking with Marvin.”

Chase did a double-take between Emma and the table. “Who’s Marvin?”

Jamie grabbed Chase’s attention. “She must mean Jackie. They do bear a striking resemblance at a glance.”

“Hard to believe Jackie could have a doppelganger.”

“Oh, my mistake then. But um, it looks like I’m interrupting something, so I can just–”

Jameson grabbed her arm. No doubt he would have told her that she should stay. By the way he was staring at her... like he never wanted to leave her side.

“Nothing that can’t be put on hold.” Chase buddied up to her, whirling them around to bring her further into their living room. “And I’m sure Jamie would love a chance to talk to you about what’s on his mind.” He sat her down in the armchair.

“Now Chase, while I’m sure Jamie would love to do that, are you sure right now is the best time?” Jackie was trying his best to smile. It wasn’t convincing anyone.

“Wouldn’t you agree that it’s best to talk to the people you trust when you are feeling overwhelmed, Jackie? This Ms.–” Chase turned to quickly remind himself, “Emma, was it?” Back to convincing Jackie– “Emma cares enough about our baby brother to run all the way here and check-up on him. I’d say that level of dedication to their relationship deserves a proper talk, does it not?” So what if Chase was playing a bit of match-maker right now. Would at least get everyone’s minds off the demon killer after all of them.

“No really, I don’t want to impose–”

“No, it’s fine, really.” Chase tried to smile warmly at her. Didn’t seem to work judging by how she seemed ready to leap at a moment’s notice.

“Chase,” the bear reared his head, finally fully awake from his slumber. “I think this is a conversation best had in private.”

Jameson clapped twice, finally able to speak his mind. “Emma, how about I take you to coffee? Then we can talk about... things.”

“That, would be lovely.” Emma stood up, a bit hesitant at first, but she seemed far more comfortable after seeing Jamie’s words. Holy shit, did little JJ have a crush who liked him back??

“Can, can you just tell us how long you’ll be gone??” Jackie called out, grabbing their attention.

“Oh, I uh, I mean, I don’t have things planned today... Jameson?” She looked at him like a doe in headlights. Hours. Chase wanted them to talk for hours.

“Maybe an hour?” He wasn’t confident either. “I’ll update you as things go.”

“All-alright.” Jackie was stupefied, but Chase couldn’t share in that emotion at all in his elation. Jamie was going on a date– no, don’t put that pressure on it. He was going to have a deep conversation with someone whom he cared for. And with all the shit that had been going on these past few weeks, Jamie deserved to finally have something good happen to him.


	27. Love & Consideration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jameson has just left with Emma, but everyone else still has to process what happened at breakfast. And then, get to speculating about what's gonna happen on Jamie's date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> +10 mental damage to everyone  
> and a dialogue heavy chapter! it’s a miracle
> 
> content warning: fighting, mention of suicide, gaslighting

“Are we going to talk about any of what just happened?” Jackie could barely wait five seconds after the two had left before tossing that out.

“Which part?” Was Chase actually that tone-deaf or was he just in denial?

“All of it. Saying you nearly died, making up some rules, and then just letting Jameson go off like that???” 

Chase sighed, shaking his head before looking back at Jackie. The light that was there less than a minute ago had been firmly extinguished. “I wasn’t going to wake you when there was nothing you could do. And I didn’t really even want anyone awake anyway.”

But, but, “what do you mean by that?” Chase loved Jackie’s hugs. Why wouldn’t he...

“I mean, we can only deal with Cat when he appears. And we don’t know what causes him to manifest. I figure I’d let you have a full night’s rest to heal and just tell everyone later, like I did. So just...” Chase sat down on the couch. He huffed as he came to a rest. “I’m not trying to hide anything. I’m just trying to be considerate.” Chase seemed to stare right through Jackie, like he was there but at the same time wasn’t.

But Jackie wasn’t trying to shit on Chase. Gah, this was just a lot to take in. Jackie shuffled over to the armchair. Easier to be soft when you didn’t have to yell across the room to the other person. “You think it was a good idea to let Jamie go out?”

“I know Jamie needed to talk with her.” Chase chuckled a bit, “Hope he finds the courage to say he likes her. But, she’ll keep him safe. And the way he looks at her...” Chase stared off into space for a sec. “He won’t let anything bad happen to her either. You taught us to fight well enough,” Chase admitted, softly punching Jackie’s shoulder. “S’ts probably what saved me last night anyway.” There was a small smile on his face, but then his eyes turned down and he pulled away from Jackie.

They never really did talk about Chase’s near death experiences, did they? They all acknowledged they happened, but nothing more than that.

“What do you think Jamie’s gonna talk to her about?”

“Well,” Henrik intervened, moving over to the side of the couch furthest from Jackie, “I’d say he’s trying to not share every single thing that’s happened over the past week.” Took a sip from his mug. “Can’t risk looking like a madman saying there’s magic, but he can’t pretend like he isn’t overwhelmed. That boy is far too expressive to hide his emotions.”

“Ah come on Henrik. Can’t we at least pretend he’s gonna have a good time?”

“Why pretend? Why even start this gossip at all? It’s just pure speculation and Jameson would never divulge more than a short summary.”

“Because he actually, finally has a crush. Aaaannnnddd she likes him back. I’m getting excited about this.”

“Hold up a second Chase. No pressure, no expectations. We’re not trying to build a mountain out of a molehill.”

“But did you see the way they looked at each other?? I mean, come on. At our best, Stacy and I wished we were that enamored with each other.” Suddenly, Chase stopped cold. No one ever brought up Stacy since all that madness started a year ago. Hard to believe Chase ever actually loved that cold-hearted harpy.

Downturned, Chase still added, “It’s fun to imagine Jamie getting it right.”

All three just sat there, contemplating. No one was happy anymore. So, Jackie started the round table. “He’d probably want to start off with a favourite quote of his, talking about love as a blooming flower or something. If he were truly being poetic, he’d compliment all the things he likes about her. Not going so far as Shakespearean, cause that’s far too intense for asking out. And he’d be very shy about it, maybe trying to hide behind a menu or shrink in his seat. Probably would be wavering between speaking too fast and not knowing a clue of what to say.”

Chase threw out a playful tsk. “You think he’d be so composed? He’d try to say he likes her, but more than a friend because she’s so amazing and all that. And if she took a pause at that, he’d start trying to back out and forget he ever mentioned it.”

“You really think Jamie is that shy Chase?”

“When it comes to crushes, wholeheartedly.”

“Both of you are wrong.” They turned to Henrik lounging leisurely in his corner seat. “He already knows what he’s gonna say. It’s not poetic, it’s not wishy-washy. It’s simple and straight to the point. Emma, we’ve gotten to know each other very well since I started working with you. And I just need to tell you, some things. You are, amazing. I look forward to seeing you everyday, hearing you talking about your life, even the parts you find so banal. I would be remiss to not acknowledge that you are attractive, but what shines even brighter than your smile is your warmth. You are the kindest, sweetest person I’ve ever met. And, I guess I’m trying to say that I like you Emma. And I want to keep trying to find ways to make you happy because you bring so much joy into my life.” Woah. Sure read like Jameson, but goddamn.

“What makes you so sure?” Chase questioned, face all knotted up trying to make sense of this interpretation.

“Because he wrote it down.” Henrik finally shifted from his fully reclined position to leaning forward just over the edge of his seat. “He’s been writing for weeks and tossing his failed letters into the recycle bin. Granted, I took a bit of liberty in that wording, but he’s polished it enough that he already had the script memorized.” Jackie was utterly stunned at this. For weeks– WEEKS, his brother had been writing love letters. And Jackie had just found out yesterday that he even had a crush??

“Wait, what?? How, how long have  _ You _ known???”

Henrik peered at Chase through the corner of his eye, but then went back to the table. “Since he realized he felt some affection towards her. Wouldn’t kill you to try and talk to your brother about himself for once.”

“No, but– but, I, I ask him about his life. He says it’s all fine. Same old same old.”

“And you never thought to ask him if there was anything interesting going on in his life? Did you really think he just got up and did the same thing every day with no change and still kept up his chipper spirit?”

“Hey, don’t shame Chase for not knowing sooner.” Though, Jackie was slightly relieved Henrik didn’t criticize him for finding out so late too. “Besides, this was just supposed to lighten the mood.”

“You think infantilizing Jameson is light-hearted fun?”

“No one was–”

“He’s a grown man. His emotions and emotional maturity far surpass where they were in high school. He’s not as socially awkward as you might think and more articulate than you give him credit for.”

“We weren’t implying that, Henrik. Of course we know Jameson’s grown up, and grown up well. We just want to see him be happy.” Why was Henrik being so combative with them both today?

“Really?” Now he was sitting taller.

“No, no, I’m not playing this game.” Chase had to shake his head and get up and walk away. But that didn’t stop Henrik going on. Jackie didn’t think he could afford the luxury of moving.

“He won’t let himself be happy because he’s too busy worrying about the family. Chase’s attempt. Your going out for longer hours and getting into more fights. Having to make sure Chase stays on track with his recovery. Your near fatal injury. Chase going awol for four whole days. This now murderous Cat delusion you two share. Or do I need to go back more than the past few months?”

“You know what Henrik?” He wanted a fight, he was getting a fight. “You’re not blameless either. Every conversation with you has turned in a minefield. If we’re not deciphering your true intentions, then you’re spewing venomous words, like you are now! You can point out things that aren’t working without heaving so much blame and shame into it.”

“Like either of you would listen if I didn’t.”

“You really think yelling at us is helping? The kind of help you seek to give is toxic. Doesn’t matter if you’re right or wrong if you always make everyone else feel guilty.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“You don’t get to decide how anyone else feels! You don’t get to decide how your actions affect others!”

“I’m not saying that at all!”

“SHUT UP!!!!” Chase being in another room barely dampened his voice. They gave pause as Chase stormed back in. “Us fighting? Is doing nothing! You–” Chase pointed at Henrik, “–office. Now!”

“I’m not some little kid you can boss around Chase.”

“Neither am I, but you two CanNOT be in the same room right now. It’s bad for BOTH of you. I’ll check in on you in 15 minutes.”

Henrik threw his hands up and walked away from the couch, scowling and growling at Chase along the way. Chase was stronger than Jackie would have been, only glaring back at him. Jackie had a half-thought he should throw a fireball or another insult at him as he walked out.

But, after Henrik left his view, Jackie noticed how tight his shoulders were and made himself relax a bit. Made an effort to deepen his breathing as well. From there, his body was automatically calming itself down.

Chase sat down on the couch and Jackie couldn’t help but continue on. “I don’t get why he’s so stubborn and won’t listen to anything.” He didn’t even realize he’d been holding back tears. “How can he not see how mean he’s being?”

“Shhhhh. I know. I know.” Chase leaned over and rubbed Jackie’s back. Jackie seized the opportunity to embrace Chase. It wasn’t comforting like he thought, being hugged. He didn’t feel safer, or more loved. Just.... still alone. Nowhere to go. Like he was in a lifeboat, still adrift in a raging sea.

Jackie pulled away, swiping at his eyes to make the tears go away. “I know when I screw up. He doesn’t have to keep reminding me of it over and over again. And he just keeps instigating and I just–” Jackie squeezed his eyes shut and tears came spilling out. Pain was aching in his heart, then his lungs, then his stomach, then his leg. Of course, now is when this would happen. “My. My leg is starting to hurt. Can, can you get me some–” Fuck, fuck. Why was it shooting pain again? Jackie doubled over, hands pressing on his leg. This wasn’t like last time. He could feel the rod, and his stomach was in knots, and he had such a hard time breathing. But he wasn’t doubled over because of the pain. He thought it might make things easier, feel better, but no. Everything just ached, a very hard, searing ache. Felt like he could walk on it if he wanted to, but Chase would never allow that.

Once Chase had returned, pill and water in hand, Jackie quickly gulped them down, knowing relief wouldn’t come for at least fifteen minutes. Meds take time. Maybe he should have listened to Henik at breakfast– no, fuck that. He was fine. And this was just the start of it. He wouldn’t take pills if he didn’t need them. And he was preventing it from getting worse now.

“Is there anything else I can do for you? Make you more comfortable.”

“No, I–” what did he even want? “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Would it be okay if I said some stuff to you? You don’t have to respond, just listen.” Jackie nodded, eyes still downcast. “It’s not your job to correct him. I know it feels like it is, you’re just calling what you see. Sometimes, people, even smart people, just don’t want to change their views. Unfortunately, sometimes all you can do is express how hurt you feel and walk away. I know that’s not really in your nature, but you can’t make someone else change, even if you’re right.

“Just please try to believe this: You are not to blame. It’s not all your fault that Jameson’s is stressed right now. It’s not your fault that conversations with Henrik devolve into arguments. It’s not your fault that you can’t use your powers right now. It’s not your fault that some insane Cat is trying to murder us. It’s not your fault.” Jackie wanted to recoil at every sentence. Wanted to object to everything. But he kept quiet, crying, because he didn’t want to believe that Chase was telling the truth. Because he was trying to do so much right, and it still was all fucked up. Because if he didn’t have a hand in it, if he really didn’t make huge mistakes, and he could do everything right, and still, this all happened. “You were just doing your best Jackie. That’s all we can ever ask of you.” His eyes were feeling dry despite how much he was crying. Soaking his pants with snot and tears and spit and just crying out because he didn’t want to believe it. He’d nearly died, and he was always on patrol, and he just wanted to be there for his family now but he couldn’t make up for lost time. The world had been so unkind to his family, so he was trying to better it. What a hero. What a tragedy.

“I’m leaving you the TV remote, in case you want to distract yourself.” Jackie heard the placement of the remote on the armrest. “I’m gonna go talk with Henrik now. Please don’t be so hard on yourself Jackie.”

Jackie listened for the footsteps and the door. But he didn’t listen for any voices. He didn’t want to hear any more screaming. He didn’t want to know what Chase was saying to Henrik, or what Henrik was telling Chase. It was so hard to even think over just the overwhelming urge to sit there and cry. The pain wasn’t going away, nothing was happening. Any thought, good or bad, condemning or exonerating, self-reflective or intrusive... it just made him hurt so much.

So when Chase came running out, it took a moment for Jackie to be able to even lift his head. Couldn’t even really see Chase through all the tears. Couldn’t ask anything. All he could do was listen. “Jackie, we have to go to the hospital, now.” What, did Henrik do something to himself? Or did they get into another fight again? “It’s Jameson. He’s hurt. Bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, the next few chapters are very hard to write, and somewhat shorter.  
> I really hope these guys come across as real, distinct, and well, men (female brain here). And I am trying so hard to keep them in their own character.  
> Also, I have a subtle meme reference and a Heathers reference in here. Just a little easter egg.


	28. Powerless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All of them are rushing to the hospital. But once they get there, they find him in surgery. What can they- any of them really do at that point to help Jameson?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm telling you now. This and the next few chapters are kinda hard for me to write, so they may be shorter, and be less polished/real than I'd like.

It was surprising how long the drive was. No one talked, the radio was off, and all Jackie could hear were the sounds of the street. His mind wouldn’t keep anything inside it. Not the off-the-rails worry for Jameson. Not the meltdown he was having before. Not even what type of sensory signals his limbs were sending him. All he could hold on to was the cars passing by and the towering buildings. The ability to make time stand still for a moment as his eyes focused on a single spot, making a building stand still only to leave view and have the world keep rushing past. Mostly, he felt numb. Everything — and he knew he could handle it — just right there, and he couldn’t grasp it. How far had he fallen?

Chase helped him leave the car and hobble into the hospital. Henrik was already running far up ahead. Words left Chase’s mouth but were never fully processed by Jackie’s ears. Moving feet, that’s what he could do. And seeing that large building, a place of healing and death, his brain focused on Jameson. How terrified he must be, being in there. If he could remember what happened. If he was– 

His foot tripped him, but no, he got back up. Walking alone as best he could now. Jameson was alive. He had to be. He couldn’t– They’d, he’d promised. Always to get back safe. No one else was dying in his family. Jackie would make sure of that. Had to make sure of that. That was his job. No one else gets to die.

But Jackie wouldn’t get the chance to hold little Jameson’s hand. Surgery. Emergency surgery. Best doctors they had working on him Henrik assured them. Liar. Henrik was the most experienced trauma surgeon they had. No one could think faster or work quicker, or care as deeply for Jameson as Henrik could.

They would never let him do surgery on his brother though. So, Henrik sat beside Chase and Jacie across from them both. All in the general waiting area. And Chase just bent over and folded in on himself. And Henrik just sat there, hands in his lap, eyes downcast. And Jackie just stared. He should be a wreck right now. Worried at the reality that his brother was in critical condition. And he just kept staring at this scene before him. His brain said speak, but no words bubbled to conscious thought. Just, nothing.

And a thought rushed in, like a speeding train and knocked him back in his seat. Standing, he left the dismal waiting area filled with all this senseless worry. None of them could change what might happen there. Not for anyone in any operating room. He walked to the hospital’s chapel, made his way to the second row pew and slid far into it. No one else was there in the small room.

Jackie never believed in God. Yet, he found himself clasping his hands together on his lap and bending his head down. He wasn’t sure if Jameson believed in a god. But even if he did, prayer would do nothing, in Jackie’s eyes. He would not ask a higher power to relieve his brother’s suffering, or to keep him here, or meddle in any way. What would happen would happen. The only variable factor deciding Jameson’s outcome was Jameson himself. Did he believe he was worth saving? Staying here? Hoping to see his brothers again?

And there it was. The dry throat, the ache in his chest, the cries escaping his lips, and the tears flowing freely. Jameson could be on the verge of death, deciding what he would hold on to life for. And Jackie hoped beyond hope he would choose life. Choose it for them, for Emma, for whatever he enjoyed. Jameson never started any rows. Never enjoyed shouting at any of them. Avoided conflict at almost any cost. But Jackie knew he could fight. Had to fight.

“Please,” he eked out between tears. “Fight for me.” It was selfish. “Because I want to be there. I want– I want to see you.” His breath stuttered and spasmed. “You can’t leave yet. You can’t– can’t g– go gently. You gotta– gotta fight. Please...” Jackie was squeezing his hands together so hard his fingers were starting to hurt. He’d take all of Jameson’s pain if he could. Would rather he nearly die again than have Jameson suffer.

And a second epiphany hit him, making Jackie open his puffy eyes and look at the carpeted floor. His tears still burned, but his chest stopped fighting. His face grew hot and his jaw clenched together. Words were just as hard to get out, but this time, he needed them to be articulate. “Cat. Wherever the fuck you are, I hope you’re listening. I don’t know if you did this or not. But mark my words. I am coming after you. That deal I wrote for Chase? Brother for a brother? Is off the table. Permanently. I will never join you.

“And if Jameson dies, that’s not on me. That’s on  _ you _ . And you will not let him die. Because no matter how powerless I may be, I will find you. And I will kill you. I promise you that.”

Jackie grabbed the seat in front of him and stood up. His eyes searched the room for any hints of magic, a sign that Cat had heard him. Nothing. And once his brain deemed the room safe, his body flopped back down into the seat. His entire body still ached all over. And even as tough as he was trying to be, the tears never stopped. He would have to leave soon. But for now, this was quiet, and safe. And in that moment, he truly, utterly, felt

powerless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inferno, please type out any thoughts you have on the story before reading this.
> 
> So, I have to get a little personal in this endnote to explain the future of updates for this story.  
> As much as I like writing this angst and these emotions (which, actually, are as much a doozy to write as it is to read), I will probably have to slow down significantly. My father is losing his job. So, I have to start applying to even more jobs to try and land a job in this market (which, I'm already averaging about 1.5 a day). So, in short, I have moved past the point of being outwardly stressed to numb apathy. I encourage you to theorize and go read some other fanfictions, but, I don't know how much I can be here for you guys right now.


	29. In the Darkest Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henrik is, feels, pretty much useless. He's used to being the one doing the surgery, not the worried family. Not that he should worry. They have good trauma surgeons. And Jameson wouldn't die. Of course he wouldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: surgery description,

It was nearly impossible to just.... sit there. Wait. Hands idle in his lap and not working. Of course they wouldn’t let him on Jameson (and truth be told, maybe it was better that way), but he couldn’t look at the chart. Didn’t know what happened besides it was a car accident. Miranda, god love ’er, she was the only reason they all knew this even happened. She’d recognized that it was one of his brothers. Was kind enough to call him directly. Of course, she couldn’t say any more than he needed to come right away, that he was in the ER and in critical condition. She wasn’t his surgeon, no, that was Noelle Sitra. There was no approach, trauma was always thinking on your feet, but...

Maybe it was better he wasn’t trying to fix Jameson. Could answer any questions either of them came up with. But that was just his training. More than anything, he was solid. Hopefully solid enough for Chase and Jackie. Because this was just a random accident, and life was cruel sometimes with no reason. And all they could do was help make Jameson more comfortable when he eventually woke up after the surgery. And have Henrik there to reassure all of them Jameson would be fine. Of course he would. Strong fighter. He’d pull though. No problem.

“What the?” First disturbance in the crying and shuffling. Henrik felt the hairs on his neck stand up. That voice, Henrik knew that man. One that didn’t get frustrated so easily. Steps started thudding closer. Here we go.

Henrik titled his head up in time enough to see his colleague looming over him. “What are you doing here?!” Cal was polite enough not to shout so loud, as to cause a massive scene. But his manners didn’t diminish his ire.

“Can we not get into this now?” Henrik replied softly, for once, trying to avoid confrontation. Wasn’t for his own sake though.

“You’re not even supposed to be here right now,” the man spat back.

“I’m not here in a professional capacity, Cal.” Henrik couldn’t help but be annoyed at his colleague. He was painfully aware he wasn’t welcome here as a doctor for the time being.

“Then why are you here?” Cal was glaring him down. It would have been so natural to spit the truth in his face and rub salt in the wound. Both their wounds.

Not today. Not right now. Had to stay stable. “My brother’s here.” It pained Henrik to look at Cal. So angry that Henrik dare step into this place of healing after that murder.

“Jackie? I thought we discharged him already.”

“StOP! Just fucking stop!” Chase finally cracked. “Jameson might die! Henrik’s done nothing wrong!”

Henrik lowered his gaze so he looked straight ahead, straight past Cal. Jameson really could die in surgery, couldn’t he?

“Wait– another brother is in surgery?” Cal absent-mindedly slid into the empty chair across the aisle from Henrik. Henrik didn’t want to acknowledge him, but it was hard to not see his face soften and turn somber. “Henrik, I’m, I’m so sorry.”  _ No, you aren’t. _ No, he couldn’t say that right now. “I’ll um, I’ll see if I can get you an update.” With that, Dr. Renzulli fled the waiting area towards the elevators.  _ Like that will make anything up _ . As if having a family member in surgery actually changed how he felt about Henrik. No, he just felt guilty was all. Maybe an update would help Chase though. Jackie too, whenever he got back from the bathroom or wherever he was.

“You’ll have to excuse Dr. Renzulli, Chase. He’s usually much more sensitive with patients and family.”

“Why was he so upset with you though?”

“Well, you know me...” Henrik tried to brush it off. “Always getting–”

“No, *sniff* worse than that.”

Henrik sighed heavily. He would have to tell them all eventually. Now was the worst time for it to happen though. “I got suspended mid-last week. But, you shouldn’t worry much about it. I can always find another place to work if need be.” Henrik let out a large breath of air. Would all depend on what actually happened. Didn’t help that he still couldn’t get over the haze and black spots in his memory of that surgery.

“What, what did you do? Surely they can’t suspend you because of your attitude alone.”

“No, nothing so frivolous as that,” Henrik reassured, trying to keep everything lighter than its actual weight. “I’m accused of intentionally killing a patient. Not that I can recall doing such a thing. I mean, I just had to find the bleeders,” his mind started flashing to the parts of the surgery, “cauterize,” he could hear the bovie working, “and remove any bone fragments from around the heart,” could see himself removing the spiked pieces and placing them into a tray, “and something went wrong and he started crashing and I thought I was losing Jackie all over again and then he just flatlines and I just–...” Schneep closed his eyes and made himself take two long, deep breaths. “I can’t remember the mistake I made that caused him to die. Medical malfeasance they say. But my memory has black fuzz and hazes that can’t exonerate me.” Another breath. He would not cry now. What was done was done and could not be changed. “But, for now, focus on Jameson, the one who could really use your thoughts and prayers right now.” Henrik gave a heavy smile as he rested a hand on Chase’s shoulder. He’d find a way to push through this kind of stuff. Always did. Always made sure their family had food on the table and a roof over their heads.

But, Henrik turned back away from Chase. He could offer no comfort besides empty words. Jameson would be fine. He was in good hands. No way would he die now. In truth, maybe prayer would be the only thing he could do. Henrik was never sure if there was or wasn’t a divine power, but prayer couldn’t hurt. And sometimes, it was the only solace left, to pray that there was some form of hope when all you could see was suffering and death around you.

After a minute of silence, Chase was finally brave enough to say something “I think we need to include Jackie in that prayer too.”

“Hmm. I suppose we should, huh.” Henrik laid his arms along his legs then clasped his hands together into an interlaced ball. Darting his eyes to the left, Chase shifted into a similar position. Neither one said a word. Henrik didn’t know where to start. Never led a prayer before. Maybe, just hope. He closed his eyes and bent his head down slightly. Let his thoughts focus on just the here and now. Hope that Jameson would pull through. Hope that he would still be able to function afterwards. Hope that his injuries wouldn’t make his life any harder. And, remembering his promise, Hope that Jackie would heal soon too. Hope he could redefine his life without powers. Hope that no brother, any brother, would die.

With that, Henrik opened his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Chase was still hunched over. And he started sniffling and hands tensing tighter. It continued on for a couple more seconds before Chase let his hands go and started wiping at his face. Henrik leaned further forward and saw Chase’s tears streaming down his cheeks.

It was easy to recognize how hurt Chase was feeling. But it was good that he was letting himself experience it instead of bottling his emotions up. What was harder to figure out was what he might need. Reassurance? A hug? Silence? Henrik settled on a simple question. “Chase?”

His brother looked up at him, eyes swimming in a sort of grief. “Henrik?” He sniffled and wiped snot away on his sleeve. “Can I tell you something?”

With slight hesitation came a, “Yes.”

“And you promise not to tell the others?” He simply nodded. “I think– I think Jackie is Cat. I think he’s the one trying to kill us.”

Wha– what? Even if Henrik did believe this Cat was real, to think it was Jackie, of all people? Chase was shaken up last night, but surely, he couldn’t be this confused. “Jackie would never try to kill you, or any of us. You know that Chase.”

“I know, I know. But I don’t think he’s doing it on purpose. Or consciously. Or– fuueeeeerrrrrr..... of his own free will.*sniff*” Henrik wouldn’t argue this point. Arguing would only cause Chase to close off again. He gave a slight encouraging nod for Chase to continue on. “He’s been having nightmares. You know that. And last night, it looked like it was pretty bad. So what if he’s battling part of himself? Some inner turmoil that’s spilling out. Cause *sniff* even dreams can feel like real life when you wake up. *sniff*

“But I– I think it’s been getting worse as he’s getting better. Cause... cause I’ve seen– I’ve  _ felt _ that he has his powers inside him. And if he can’t, then he has to be lying to himself on some level, right? But *clears throat*, it’s more than that. Cause last night, that Cat, he had Jackie’s same energy. And when I destroyed part of his mask, I saw his face. I saw  _ Jackie’s _ face. And then he vanished before I woke you up. And I don’t know what’s going on with him, Henrik, but I’m really scared for Jackie. I’m scared for all of us.” Chase’s bottom lip was trembling as he started to silently cry again.

All Henrik could do was gently repeat the same line. “Jackie, doesn’t want to harm any of us, consciously or unconsciously.”

“I know what I saw!” Chase took a moment to pause and take a few deep breaths in and out. “I know... what I saw. It was Jackie’s face. It was Jackie’s energy. No one stole his powers. Henrik, I wish to god it was some thief or doppelganger or evil twin or something, but it can’t be. No one else has powers like Jackie.” Chase covered his face with his hands before sliding them off and moving to give himself a tight hug. 

Without a doubt, there was no convincing Chase he was wrong on this theory. And it seemed there was no consoling him now. At least, that's how Henrik felt. Hugging wouldn’t change the thought that Jackie would kill them in his sleep. It couldn’t make Chase feel more loved than he was. Hopefully seeing Jameson alive could at least bring some comfort to him. But until then, “Is there... anything I can do to help?”

Chase shook his head fervently, more tears falling. If there was nothing he could do, then at least he could go get Jackie back. “I’m gonna, head to the bathroom.” Henrik laid a gentle hand on Chase’s shoulder. “I’ll be back in a few.” With that, he stood up and headed off.

Maybe it wasn’t the best plan, but Chase had to know that consciously, Jackie cared for them. Why else would he push himself so hard, walking around without any assistance? Couldn’t imagine the pressure he felt in his leg. It was almost incredible, the pain he would tolerate through sheer will and determination to achieve his goals. One of Jackie’s best qualities: stubborn willpower. Unrelenting, unbreakable. Or, at least, it was.

A quick inspection of the bathroom and there seemed to be no sign of Jackie. But, Henrik took the opportunity to splash water on his apparently red face. He hadn’t felt hot, but the water was far more refreshing than he expected. Then an itch in his memory started nagging at Henrik as he cleared off his face. Something Chase had said at the end. That it wasn’t some thief or doppelganger or evil twin. The only thing more outlandish than this Cat was that Jackie would be willingly hurting them. With a sigh, Henrik acknowledged a single thought. Maybe someone with Jackie’s likeness was trying to kill them. Someone who, one way or another, had powers similar to Jackie’s.

But pushing the door of the bathroom open, Henrik shoved that thought away for now. Off to the nurses’ station to see if Jackie had stopped by or someone had seen him. Surely, he wouldn’t just walk out of the hospital. After all, Jameson was still here. Jackie wouldn’t abandon his family in their time of need.


	30. And Good Can Still Prevail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Chase ~~not~~ coping with all of this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: hospital setting, suicidal thought  
> Also, I tried to do a little trick with the past 3 titles.

It was unbearable. The black hole where his heart should be, the acid churning in his stomach, the sting around his eyes. Pain nearly identical to that when he lost his kids. Only this time, he didn’t have any alcohol to numb and forget. This time, he had to feel the onset of grief as everything was happening. And this time, he felt as though there was no safety net. Henrik would lose his job in a few weeks. Jackie was starting to spiral out of control with his emotions and his powers. Jameson could die. Emma was god knows where.

It was his fault they were here. If he just hadn’t tried to play matchmaker. Or insisted they stay at the house. Or... SOmeTHinG! They wouldn’t be here. No one would be here, hurt, and scared, and alone.

Maybe if he hadn’t run off, Jackie would be in a better place emotionally. Wouldn’t have a reason to want to kill him. Proving, once again, that he wasn’t the responsible adult he should have been.

_ Life would be easier if I was just dead _ . Chase squeezed out tears for the words he shouldn’t have thought. Untrue, and yet, seeming so much easier than all of this. But no, he couldn’t die now. Jameson would be devastated. Jackie would probably irreversibly spiral into the deep chaos his mind was enveloped in right now. And Henrik... Chase hoped Henrik would at least miss him. No, he couldn’t die right now. Would create too large of a disaster.

Wiping the tears away, Chase sat normally again, hunched over, hands folded together, silently wishing, praying he could see his brother soon.

Henrik and Jackie still weren’t back. He should have been more observant of the passage of time. More worried for their predicaments. But seeing a doctor in scrubs walk up to him with such purpose, it had to be Jameson’s doctor. His safety was paramount right now.

“How is he?” Chase stood cautiously, knowing full well he might collapse with the gravity of even any news.

She spoke, keeping a fine expression, emotional shielding Chase would think. “Jameson’s surgery went well. He’s been moved to a recovery room. If you’ll follow me, please.” Chase was all too eager to follow her down the corridor, in the elevator, and finally into Jameson’s room. She had made small comments along the way. “He’ll be coming out from the anaesthesia, so he may still be a little groggy. We’ll need to keep him here at least overnight.” 

But everything else faded away when Chase saw Jameson for the first time. And he just went rushing to his little brother’s side. There were stitches on his face, had one of those white and blue polka dotted hospital gowns on, and IV tubes in his arms. But there was a great big rise and fall of his chest, mouth agape but still silent. He looked pale, but Chase knew that wouldn’t last. Chase laid his hand atop Jameson’s. “Hey bud.” Tears started spilling over. Chase brushed Jameson’s hair back in place, just like he liked it. Let his hand linger there a bit, moving down and caressing Jameson’s cheek. He let his hand drag off though, never once taking his eyes off his little brother. It was enough just to be able to see him here, feel the warmth in his face.

And then Jameson started rousing. His eyes moving underneath his eyelids before fluttering them open. It took a few seconds, but as his eyes widened, Chase knew it was sinking in. “Hey, hey,” Chase started, gaining Jameson’s full attention. “You’re okay, you’re okay. I’m here.” There were a few heavy breaths as Jameson tried to sit up straight, failing and falling back into his bed. “Don’t, don’t try to exert yourself. You were in an accident. Had to go to the hospital and have this surgery. And this lovely doctor–” Chase looked over to the doctor. She gave a small smile and wave. Chase redirected his attention to his brother– “she fixed you up real good Jame.” He sniffled and used his free hand to wipe away the tears.

There was movement underneath Chase’s hand as Jamie started moving his hands. There were lousy, his wrists drooping and fingers stiffer than normal. “Don’t rush yourself.”

But Jameson was determined. Resorted to finger spelling. In truth, he only needed to say one word. “Emma.”

“I um, I don’t know how she’s doing. Uh, Doc? Do you know anything about a woman who was brought in at the same time as my brother?”

“I’ll see if I can find out anything,” she started, walking to the side opposite Chase, “but I’m more concerned about Jameson right now. There are a couple things I’d like to go over with you right now, if that’s alright.” Chase looked at Jameson, awaiting his response. There was no shaking away the fear and worry, but Jameson still chose to nod yes.

And she went on to explain vague details about what she’d fixed. Talking about a plan moving forward, would have a nurse come in with some forms he had to fill out. And Jameson just nodded along, never asking a question or sharing a concern. It was simple enough for them both to understand, but maybe it would have been better if she could have discussed some of the more technical points with Henrik. Henrik! Shit, what room were they even in? Chase waited politely until she was finished to ask for the room number before sending a quick text to his brother. But with no further comments or questions raised by them, she was gone, off to the next patient. And Chase was simply there with Jameson.

He didn’t know how much time they’d have together. Or even what to say. Maybe he should start with, “Jackie and Henrik will be here soon, don’t worry.” But Jamie couldn’t relax. “One of us will always be here with you. We’re not gonna let anything else happen to you.”

Jamie finally broke his silence. “My fault.”

Chase didn’t know the details, but “No, no, it’s not your fault. I’m sure of it.”

“No, no. Light. Voice. Haze. Black. Move. Crash.  ~~ Woman ~~ She. . . Bleed. Unconscious. Noise. Haze. Black. . . Blame. me.”

Jameson had started tearing up and Chase’s heart started shattering again. “Bud.” He leaned over and softly hugged Jameson. His brother didn’t reciprocate, but that was okay. And after a few seconds, Chase felt Jamie’s head come to rest on top of his shoulder. Nothing was comfortable about this, for either of them probably. Hopefully Emma was just slightly banged up and in her own bed somewhere. And hopefully his other brothers would get here soon. Every one of their lives was tainted right now, but there was still good news. They were all still alive. That’s what Chase had to focus on right now. They were all  _ still _ alive.


	31. Even Through Trauma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jameson has to see Emma. He has to apologize for what he's done to her. Cause worse than being in the hospital, is knowing he caused Emma to be in pain.

His mind refused to waver from the crash. Even if he was here, aware of this hospital room, of these machines, the various things that had been done to him, thinking about Emma in pain — a pain he caused — was far more crippling than anything he was dealing with. Jameson was too ashamed to allow himself to speak once the others came in. Even felt guilty for talking to Chase before apologizing to the person he hurt.

Jackie refused to leave his side. Kept a hold of his hand. He’d initially started rambling about all that they were going to do to make this all better for him. And in a knee jerk reaction, Jameson squeezed once, squeezed hard. He didn’t want to hear about getting better right now. He deserved this suffering, for now. It was his fault they crashed. He needed to see Emma before he could even think about his own recovery.

No one talked. Chase minded his time on his phone, Jackie silently keeping guard, Henrik stepped out to take care of some other business, and Jameson just...waited. Someone was supposed to tell him about Emma’s condition. Cause all he knew was that there was blood dripping down her face last time he saw her. He couldn’t remember much about what happened. A big black haze of black spots clouded everything. But he could clearly see the blood. Forming around the glass puncture marks and dripping down her face.

The nurse wasn’t very descript when she came in. They’d allow him to go visit her. That was all he could cling to. Moved him to a wheelchair, transferring his medicines to portable stands. Neither one of them allowed Jackie to help with anything. This process wasn’t something Jackie could save him from. The nurse wheeled him out, alone, through the white halls to Emma’s room.

After rounding the door frame, Jameson saw her face. Her eyes were closed, face paler than normal, stitching and bandages, most notably the strap across her forehead. “You have a visitor, Ms. Friedman.” It looked almost like she was sleeping. But then she scrunched her nose and slowly lifted heavy eyelids. She was looking right at Jameson, but didn’t seem to register that it was him.

“Hi,” she said in a hoarse voice, accompanied by a couple hard coughs before laying back and closing her eyes again. The nurse wheeled Jameson closer. 

“Do you want me to stay in the room Ms. Friedman?” Why would that be necessary?

“No,” Emma waved lazily, “I should be fine.” She started stirring, shifting to sit up a bit against her pillow.

“Okay. Just, push the call button if you need anything.” Jameson heard her walk out, leaving him and Emma alone. Another lazy attempt to open and shut her eyes, and Emma decided to try and smile.

“Hey Jameson.” She was sitting as erect as she could, barely enough to look over the side bars of the bed. She offered her hand to him. Heavy though it felt, he grasped it and laid it back on the bed. But then he returned his hands,  his bloody hands, to his lap, feeling unworthy of even holding it. It was clear that she barely had any strength to stay awake right now. And yet, she still allowed him to come see her. 

He gave her a small wave to be polite. Her eyes were still fluttering, but she was working on keeping herself awake. He had to choose his words carefully. Ones she could easily understand. Ones that said everything necessary. First word. Only one he could start with. “Sorry.”

It took her a bit to process. “Sorry? Fer what?” Her voice sounded so tired and raspy. He would have told her to save her voice. But, he wasn’t sure she’d even listen to that. Nor would he silence her if she wanted to tear into him.

“Crash.” Then he gestured to her whole body. “Sorry.”

“No, no.” Her voice was slow. But he’d give her all the time in the world. “Sts’not on you. That... car. Ran the light. ... rammed so hard.” She put a head up to her temple. And just then Jameson remembered her scream. Right before impact. Shrieking. Like she was warning him and he couldn’t react to her.

“No, no. Driving. My fault. Mine.” He didn’t know if she was right. He couldn’t remember what had happened. Just her pain.

“Hey,” she lagged, making Jameson focus entirely on her in this moment. “Okay. Let’s not talk about blame.” She coughed a bit before continuing. “How bad were you hurt?”

That was one question he wasn’t sure of. In all honesty, all he knew was that he had surgery. Hadn’t even checked underneath his gown to see where (not that it was his top priority). “Knife.” He didn’t think she’d understand ‘surgery.’

“Yeah. I got a little one done too.” She tried to smile, but now wasn’t a time Jameson could smile. “Where’s yours?”

Despite any fear he felt, Jameson lifted his gown and checked. He saw the big draping covering almost half of his left side. Letting his shirt fall back onto him, he pointed to the incision site for Emma.

She responded in kind, tapping twice over her heart. “Hurts like a bitch though.” She took a deep breath in and out again. “And the breathing. Yeah...” Jameson hoped that was just a temporary thing. Hurting to breathe... he had seen that pain lived out through Jackie. “But...” She was spinning this? Of course she could. She was Emma. “At least, we can still have our coffee date. Minus the coffee.” She beamed at that, and Jameson couldn’t help but have a smile creep upon his lips.

“Now? You should be resting.”

She closed her eyes to take a big deep breath in and out. “Don’t think I can rest knowing one of my best friends is still stressed the fuck out. And...” she started to add, taking in a deep breath, “it would really help take my mind off stuff.” She took two heavy blinks as she waited for Jameson to respond. But he knew this type of thing. Lying about weariness to be there for someone. And it wasn’t some childish promise that you’d forget in the middle. No, Emma would stand by her promise to be awake as long as Jameson needed. Would be rude to deny her peace of mind with a piece of his mind. She knew her limits and would absolutely tell Jameson if she needed to stop.

So, Jameson had no choice but to start talking. “I guess, I can start from the beginning of this mess.

“Henrik informed me late last Wednesday that Jackie was in hospital. Chase also hadn’t come home. So, on Thursday, we had gone to see Jackie. And I was happy that he was alive, but he tells me that he’s hurt bad. Broken leg and hands. And I just yelled at him because how could he hide this from me?

“And then Friday, Jackie came home. And Chase still wasn’t home. And I just don’t want Jackie to leave the house, or even my sight. But I have to leave him downstairs to go sleep and he climbs all the way up just to see me. Next day, he finally tells me what happened. That he’s nearly died. And what am I supposed to say? I love you, thank you for not dying and telling me weeks later? And I just think how no one in this family tells me anything or wants to talk with me. I got fed up and started driving around to try and find Chase. But I’m so worked up that he could be dead or have actually killed himself that I nearly crash the car. And when we get back home, I see Chase’s car, and all I can do is wait for him to come back. And he does, thankfully. And I just don’t want anyone to leave the house or die. 

“And just in the past 24 hours, I find that my brothers have been keeping more near-death experiences from me. Do they not think I deserve to know? Think I’m so fragile that I’ll shatter? I admit I may not have taken it the best, but these are hard matters to handle.” There were other things he could have talked about. Details about how his own life was possibly at risk. The underlying issue of how poor communication actually was in his house, more than just this week’s offenses. How he was afraid Chase was going to try another suicide attempt, even if he didn’t while he was missing. Just thinking of a few things.

She mulled it over for a minute. Most likely thinking of what comforting thing to say. That’s what Jameson always did. First acknowledge and validate feelings with a good turn of phrase. Next, try to do what you can to help, if you can help. In all honesty, she probably couldn’t do much besides listen. Not like this was a mess where he just needed help organizing something.

“Honestly? That’s, a really shitty situation. And I’m sorry you had to deal with all of that by yourself. It’s never easy to hear – even think – someone close to you may have died. It’s traumatic. Not just for them, but for you too. And J, I think you’re still in crisis mode. So, it’s okay to not know what to do. Right now, your brain is just working to handle all this information and keep you alive.” She took a huge breath in before working to continue on. “It’s rightfully upsetting to hear. people have been keeping stuff from you. And it just sounds like everyone’s scared, J.

“Ah hell. I. was scared. I felt my heart jump, screamed and shut my eyes. And I. I saw you dangling, the twisted metal. and my head. i couldn’t keep my eyes open.” She’d started crying and Jameson wanted to move forward and wipe her tears away. But she was already on that herself. “Death is a very scary thing. For anyone involved. I know you’re upset with them because you care so much about your family. And you should tell them that. I’d just say. you focus on how much you love having them here. rather than how much you would have missed them.” She closed her eyes and took a couple shaky, raspy breaths. Jameson tried to stand to move closer to her, but was stopped by his stitches before he got too far. Emma was crying softly, while Jameson had to sit and watch.

It was always easy to listen to Emma, but gravity increased as her meaning sunk in. Everyone was just, scared. Jackie. had nearly died. Chase. had nearly died. Emma. had nearly died. He, had nearly died. To think one moment you are going about life, and the next... nothing? It was incomprehensible. Jameson didn’t want to leave anyone here. He wanted to see all their futures. Chase find meaningful, lasting, happiness again. Jackie figure out his path forward from here, finding new and rewarding ways to help others. Emma and her endeavours through this journey called life. And him, well, just, experiencing everything. Even Henrik, stuck in his rut, could maybe let his guard down and find someone to love. To not be there for any of that... absolutely terrifying.

Tears welled at the corner of his eyes. Jameson wiped them away, but new ones formed again. He didn’t know what to say. But even if the scariest part was over, he didn’t want to leave Emma to deal with her near-death alone. “May I stay here? With you?”

Emma swallowed as more tears ran. “Of course. But I think the painkillers are kicking in. I might fall asleep on you.”

“It’s alright. We don’t need to talk. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

She paused a moment, another tear falling. A soft cry, “Thank you,” before she turned toward her side to face Jameson. He watched as she fell asleep within a few minutes. Maybe she’d been fighting off the tired for their entire conversation. Brave, strong Emma. Deserved someone as kind and compassionate as she was. Even if he was only her friend, Jameson wanted to do his damndest to reciprocate that kind of affection. And right now, that meant watching her sleep so she could hopefully dream in peace.


	32. When You're Left with the Impossible...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Henrik has a chance to talk with Jackie about Jackie. Trying to piece everything that's happening together and figure out why Chase and Jackie both claim different things about Jackie's powers. Because Henrik wants to come at this objectively. And at the very minimum, Jackie's healing is not normal -- it's super. But it's more than just this powers debate. It's about Jackie. Because Jackie... hasn't really been Jackie for a bit. Not since his near-death experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just finished next chapter, and am far too excited, so have this for now.

“Hey Chase? Think you could go grab us some snacks?”

Chase shifted and sat up straighter in his seat. “Uh, yeah, but wouldn’t it be...” Henrik tried to give him a look. Something to say remember that I shouldn’t really be seen around here right now? It took a sec for something to sink in with him. “Oh, uh, you know what? I think I’ll just manage. Anything you guys specifically want.” Nothing was said in the few seconds it took for Chase to rise to his feet. “Right, guess I’ll just guess.”

He headed for the door before Henrik stopped him. “Wait! You got any cash on you?” Chase padded his pockets, but Henrik was already reaching into his own. “Here.” He handed over two twenties. Much more than necessary, but it would encourage him to buy more food.

“Thanks.” With Chase out of the room, Henrik set his focus on Jackie. Dragging the empty chair, he placed it so that the tips of the two arms were barely touching each other. Close enough for them to have a (hopefully) quiet chat, Henrik finally took a seat.

Seeing as how nothing was normal about today, Henrik started the conversation. “How are you doing, Jackie?”

“’M fine,” he gruffed, eyes fixed on the open doorway.

“Let me ask you again.” Henrik paused for an uncomfortably long time, waiting for Jackie to turn. But, that never happened. “How are  _ you _ doing?”

It took a couple seconds before Jackie engaged in conversation. “They’re taking a very long time. I think I should go check–” he already started trying to get out of his seat, but Henrik was just as quick. Arm stretched across the entire chair, blocking any exit. Of course, they both knew an arm wouldn’t be enough to stop Jackie if he was determined to leave. And yet, the hero backed down, causing Henrik to stand down as well.

“Emma and Jameson are fine. They are in a hospital, with staff monitoring them.” Jackie finally turned to look at his brother. He looked so tired. And not just physically weariness. “But Jackie,” for the third time, “how are  _ you _ doing?”

The hero finally broke, slumping back down in his chair and letting a long sigh out as he looked towards the sky. “My leg doesn’t hurt anymore,” he slanted his eyes toward Henrik, “if that’s what you mean.”

“You don’t have to act tough. There are enough people here to look after the both of you.”

“I’m not acting, Henrik. I just...” he turned away and back again. “It doesn’t hurt right now. Ever since I heard that he was okay. So just, take care of him right now. He needs more help than I do right now.”

It pained Henrik to ask this. “You sure about that?”

“Wha–?” Bewilderment and shock. “I know my own body and my own limits. And I would appreciate it, if you’d respect that.”

It was hard not to respond in a like tone. But, Henrik wanted to get answers, not lecture him right now. A softer approach was necessary. “I’m not talking about your leg.” Henrik took a deep breathe in, already knowing how this conversation would go. “I’m talking about your mental state.”

“My mental–? I’m fine!” he objected, throwing his hands to the side, his face saying a resounding ‘how dare you ask me that fucking question.’ Yes, this would go swimmingly.

“I’m not saying that you’re not. I’m saying, have you considered that there may be something going on, subconsciously?”

“Subcon–? Henrik, I’m.  _ Fine _ . I’m not hiding anything from you like Chase does. And I’ve already dealt with losing my powers. There’s no ‘inner turmoil’ going on that I’m not already dealing with.”  _ It doesn’t take one week to cope with losing your entire identity _ . Damn, Jackie did need a real talk, didn’t he?

But, for now, Henrik wanted to present evidence, observations. Things Jackie would believe and trust, if not his own brother’s word. “Then let’s focus on something else. Your injuries.” Jackie groaned, but Henrik paid no mind to it. “Have you noticed that your most substantial healing moments are tied to your emotional revelations?”

“Come on Henrik. Now you just sound crazy.”

If Chase was right that Jackie still had his powers, that he still had super healing... “Just think about it. For one minute. You haven’t felt any pain since you heard Jameson was out of surgery. You were walking around fine after Chase came back home. Hell, your hands started working when you were opening up that night!”

“No, that’s just adrenaline Henrik. Placebo. You’re always saying hope is a part of staying alive, but it doesn’t cause people to heal.”

“No, it doesn’t. But Jackie. Your hands? shouldn’t work right now.” Jackie stole a glance down at his hands in his lap. “Far too much muscle was removed and damage done for them to have any sort of fine motor control like you have now.” It looked like he just punched his brother in the gut. Almost felt like it too.

“But, but you said it’d be fine. It’d come back on its own. It did that!” Seeing his brother, this brother, on the verge of tears was never an easy sight.

“I lied. I thought early on you still had super healing and it would just fix itself. But when that didn’t happen, and you had to be taken to the hospital, I thought for sure you’d need nerve grafts just to even control your fingers again.”

“But they work!” Jackie madly grabbed and squeezed Henrik’s hand. “They work! They healed on their own!”

“And that’s what I’m saying!” Henrik was getting emotional now. No, stop, focus on the goal of this. He moved his free hand so it was now resting on top of both of Jackie’s. “They shouldn’t work, but they do. Maybe your emotions triggered your super-healing or something.”

“But my powers don’t work like that!” Jackie was full on crying now. Okay, comfort, and then continue. ?

“Maybe they didn’t, but you went through a lot of trauma. That changes people.”

“Not me! I get into fights all the time and life or death situations! None of those changed me!”

“Not all trauma is equal. Being in dangerous situations is different than nearly dying.” That, Henrik was sure of. Each left different marks on the soul.

Jackie retreated his hands back to his person, stared at them, then started wiping away tears that were continuously being replaced. “No, I, I don’t have my powers though. I know he took them. That Cat took them!”

“Based on your recovery Jackie, he didn’t. At least not all of them.” Jackie desperately looked at Henrik, only noises of unsureness coming out. This couldn’t be any easy reality to face.

“Then, then why didn’t I heal sooner?”

“Like, I said. I think your emotions–”

“What, like I wanted to stay laid up?!”

“I’m not saying that.”

“No, cause if I’ve had these this entire time– Wait, no. He’s toying with me. That’s it. That’s your game, right!?” Jackie shouted to all the corners of the room. “Heal me so that it looks like I’m lying. You were trying to be clever right?” He stood up now, still talking to no one there. “Make me look insane? But you crossed the line, messing with my family.”

“jackie–”

“Cause you threatened  _ their _ safety–”

“Jackie–”

“Ho! I don’t even care if I do or don’t have my powers. I’ll beat you to a bloody pulp next time I see your face!”

“Jackie!” Henrik pinned his brother’s arms to his side and sat him down. Jackie had a death glare in his eyes before he realized he was staring right at Henrik. But it was abundantly clear. Cat was a real threat to Jackie. And that meant one of two things. His brother was going insane. Or there was a psycho out there with Jackie’s likeness orchestrating all this. “Jackie,” Henrik let out, now worried for the former hero.

“No. Henrik, I–” Henrik waved a hand, silencing Jackie.

Jackie flopped back down into his seat, arms comfortable on the rests. Leaning forward, hand over his eyes as Henrik wanted to try and think and make sense of this. As terrible as it was, it would have been better if Jackie was just going mad. If he’d somehow cracked. But the longer Henrik sat, the more clear it became.

Henrik sat back in his seat. “You’d die before you let any harm come to one of us, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course.” Reflexive. No hesitation. No second thoughts. Henrik didn’t know what was the truth with regards to Jackie’s powers. Of course he couldn’t know. But Jackie was attacked. He was plagued with nightmares. His healing patterns were chaotically spiked. And he wasn’t trying to kill anyone in their family. And even though Chase swore it was Jackie trying to kill him, that was impossible.

“I’m sorry Henrik.”

“Sorry?” Henrik turned, Jackie tearing silently two feet away. “For what?”

There was no answer. And the two of them sat for a few minutes of silence. Talking was too hard. But this still felt so unresolved. And Jackie was unhinged. But nothing could be done at the moment. They just had to sit and wait for their brothers to return from their respective outings.

“When Chase comes in...” Henrik started, a heaviness to his voice. Jackie hung on every word. It was much lighter than any of that though. “Eat any and everything he gives you. You haven’t had a full meal today – neither of you. And you need to give your body the energy to heal itself. And you’ll drink water until it makes you sick. Got that soldier?”

“Yes, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so sorry. But, the story only gets harder from here (both for you reader, and for me). This is your warning.


	33. The Truth Becomes Clear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase got back from getting snacks. Now, all he wants to do is take care of his brothers. Cause it's been a whirlwind of a day already. So much ~~too much~~ has already happened that it feels like it hasn't had time to form a coherent thought of his own. But all the stakes are so high right now. Maybe it's not a bad thing he hasn't let his mind wander. Cause flipping from 0 to 100 can cause quite severe whiplash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, sorry if the summary doesn't always make sense. I kinda just write these as lead ups more than actual summaries.  
> oh, also, apologies about any cryptic stuff (titles, summaries, or story). there is so much lore I can't reveal quiet yet or have no space/reason for my characters to explain.

“Alright, so I got-” Chase was reaching into different pockets, about to pull out various food bars when he saw the room had gained an occupant since he left. “Jamie, you’re back!” Granola and candy spilled onto the floor. “Hey hey, uh, you still doing okay, doing alright?”  _ No idiot! He was just in a car crash, then surgery, and is now in a hospital!  _ Right, distraction. Something not scary. “How’s Emma doing?”

Jamie’s hands were dragging a bit, just like when he was exhausted after a long day at work. But still, the lad managed to answer. “She’s doing okay. Recovering.” Jameson bit his lip. It was plainly obvious that he had more he wanted to talk about, but Chase wasn’t going to push him now. At home, sure, but that was for tomorrow. Today was catering to Jamie’s needs.

“Is there anything I can get to make you comfy? Pillow, blanket,” he bent down to pick his bars back up, “candy?”

“Now Chase,” Henrik drew his attention, “it’s better to let the staff take care of Jameson’s food intake right now.”

“Okay, still.” Chase wanted to make Jameson comfortable. “Anything I can do to help?” But Jameson shook his head. And unfortunately, Chase let out a sigh. He was better when people told him what they needed. He could try and be perceptive or guess, but he was always so hesitant with that. Afraid doing the wrong thing would only draw more ire.

Turning to his other brothers, he started doling food out his pockets, distributing one than the other, trying to remember what he got for each of them. Then the bottles of water (one for Henrik, two for Jackie). And the last item he handed over was the $15 change to Henrik. Didn’t bother keeping anything for himself; didn’t feel hungry anyway.

Having taken care of those two, Chase decided to at least give JJ something to drink; had to have been awhile since he last had water. The sound of splashing in plastic was accompanied by the tearing of plastic wrappers. Handing the cup to Jamie, Chase set himself a spot near the bed, leaning against the wall since there were no more seats to be had.

He could fiddle around and idle on his phone, but that kind of boredom sounded more unappealing than just standing here, staring, waiting. Nothing heavy could be talked about. But Chase’s mind only flitted between frivolous things and those that would only cause distress. Hell, how could it not? The last 24 hours had been the most chaotic since he’d lost– No. Chase shook the thought out. He wasn’t going to think about them right now. He could spiral at home, not here. Not around everyone. Not when, on any off chance, he could be needed.

Seemed everyone else was on pins too. Henrik had already inhaled his first granola but hadn’t touched anything else, just gently placed them all on the floor for later. Jackie was nibbling on his first bar. Although that was normal enough, he was nonetheless being awfully quiet. Normally, if Chase wasn’t the one talking, it was Jackie, if nothing else but to keep everyone’s spirits up. Cause silence was a very tricky thing. Sometimes needed, even in groups, but sometimes engulfing. Chase thought Jackie knew the difference. Thought he never cared about how awkward it was to start. But something was blocking him today. Hell, something has been off about Jackie for weeks now. Tracking back, ever since his injury.

His physical injuries were on their way. Slow by Jackie’s standards, but moving. But his spirit wasn’t quite right. Broken was the only word Chase’s brain conjured up. Affected by his trauma, minimum, but even Chase didn’t know the full extent. At first, he’d thought it was agony over nearly dying and losing his powers. And then maybe that Chase had abandoned him. But far outweighing that matter was Cat. The deranged part of his brother that manifested itself during unconsciousness. The part that had been so angry at Chase that he tried to kill him.

Maybe Chase had been too wrapped up in trying to get Jackie back to his original state that he failed to see the chaos brewing underneath. The man leading a dual life and falling into despair. Or maybe this was just a tipping point. Catering more to Jackie the Hero’s needs than just Jackie’s.

Whatever the situation, whatever the reason, Chase wanted to fix it. Fix him. But he didn’t know what he should do. Jackie was scared, that much was clear. Without confrontation, all Chase could do was say he loved him. Apologize for anything he’s done wrong (maybe specific instances. That was always better for the apology). Taking a large breath in and out, Chase shook his head to himself. Maybe Jackie was just, cracked. Like him. Sometimes tape and glue just aren’t enough to stop the damage from spreading.

Jameson made a small clap to draw everyone’s attention in. His mouth was all squiggled, shoulders hunched in, and eyes looking without focus. “There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you all about.”

“Of course! We’re all listening.” Chase was all too eager to listen to someone else talk.

It took a moment for Jamie to get comfortable again. “I wanted to take a moment, to say that I love you all.”

“Aawww. We love you too Jamie!” Chase responded for all of them. 

“No, but–  Toss it aside I don’t say that as a throw away. Or obligation. And I worry it gets lost in my actions or there lacking.

“I fear losing touch with any of you all. And it may be I’m placing too much restriction on you,” he gestured to Jackie, “or  letting our talks stagnate ,” towards Henrik, “or not allowing for conversations needed to happen,” and now Chase’s turn. “But I want so much to see you all grow better. Help build you up.

“I know my fear over your all well-being isn’t always productive. But I want to be better at it. I don’t want to hurt you because I’m scared for you. I just want you all to be safe and sound because I can’t fathom not having you all in my life.” And Jameson was starting to cry at his words. But that last line hit Chase like a dagger in the chest. Jabbing at his heart and twisting round to shred it. That kind of pain was unimaginable, until you were suddenly, actually, faced with it. And another wave of grief came over him as threw himself onto his brother, hugging him close and started sobbing on his shoulder. Chase couldn’t lose Jameson. Any of them. No one.

Jameson was kind enough to give two gentle taps after a couple seconds. Still reeling, Chase reluctantly let his brother lay back into his sheets. “Sorry, I um–” his voice caught in his throat. His brain took the second to side step his emotional state and remind him of his present. Jameson was still injured. Just said he loved them all. Then he’d assaulted him with an intrusive, trembling hug that wasn’t even to convey his love, but to prevent his grief. He should apologise. Focus on Jameson’s emotions, not his own. Jamie’s fear. Scared. It was a parent’s job to let their kids know being scared was okay. That scared doesn’t always come out pretty. And then do something to make it better.

“I think what Chase is trying to say–” Jackie hadn’t even attempted to leave his chair. Maybe his leg was still touchy. Chase wiped more free-flowing tears away. “–is that it’s okay. We’re not going anywhere. And worry doesn’t have to be ‘productive.’ Sometimes it’s enough to just know you have someone who fusses when you get hurt.” Jackie, this is not what Jamie needs to hear. “We’ll work on better showing you that we’re always here for you.” Stop with these lies. Chase’s chest felt like it was choking on these false idealizations. No one was safe right now, especially with him in the mental and emotional state he was. Moments away from an outburst of terrifying anger and a bit of exhaustion away from hurting someone else. But Chase couldn’t say any of this, his throat narrowing as more tears flowed and he tried to muffle his cries.

There was a moment of quiet, save for Chase. But he heard Jameson stir, and then Henrik, “Chase?”  _ So concerned for me, _ Chase near laughed to himself at the thought. It wasn’t funny though. No, not at all. But he knew Henrik had to be speaking for Jameson right now. Even conveyed the depths of concern Jameson would’ve expressed. At least Henrik was focusing on how their littlest brother felt.

Wiping his nose with his wrist, Chase tried to muster any form of composure. He could control himself long enough for one sentence. “I’m just a– a little overwhelmed with stuff is all.” And another spasm rocked his chest, but he kept his mouth closed, trying to stop the fit. Tears still in his eyes, he turned to try and smile at his bedridden brother. But who was he convincing anyway? He should have played it off as shock from nearly losing Jameson. Or that he was touched by his words. Gazing out the far window, Chase felt ashamed of himself. Couldn’t hide forever. But not now. He took a deep breath in and shook as he exhaled. 

Movement pricked at the corner of his vision. And Chase only caught the last word. “Home.” Home, snuggled up in cuddles from everyone. That was the safest place for little Jamie. But Chase heaved a heavy sigh.  _ Best to let doctors make sure he even could come home _ . Maybe that was one reason why Jamie always hated hospitals. Kept you away from comfort.

“You sure?”

A simple, single nod. His mouth was squeezed shut in a straight line as he turned to look up at Chase. There wasn’t tired, nor painful ache or sadness. It was almost worse than his wrath for Jamie to be so... blank. Struck him to where he knew things were probably bad.

He lightly patted Jamie’s shoulder twice. “Make sure you get some rest, little bean.” He shuffled out, hands shoved in pockets, hunched over a little out of misery. Once on the other side of the doorway, he leaned heavily against the wall, listening to his brothers discuss him. Why’d he go and make this about him? He shouldn’t have been their focus right now.

“Is there anything you want me to bring back for you?”

Knowing his kid brother, probably a book. Paper and pen to write. His journal, if he still wrote in it. But Chase didn’t make himself privy to that side of the conversation.

“Alright. I’ll be back soon.” There was creaking as Henrik stood. Probably just from the chair, but maybe from his joints as well. “Come on Jackie.”

“I’m staying here.”

“Jameson will be fine. The nurses are very good at looking after the patients.”

It took him a moment. “I’m good here.”

No one said anything for a bit. Well, nothing verbal anyway.

But, after over a minute of silence, there was the sound from another chair. Then the unmatched footsteps. Shuffling of plastic became a background noise as Jackie made his way outside, unassisted. Chase scooched over to give Jackie his leaning spot. But his brother chose to stand on his own two feet still. Damn. Apparently his will, or whatever shock chemicals were still lingering in his system, were enough to overcome a broken leg. For a split moment, Chase was jealous how easily Jackie seemed to be able to brush off injury. He cursed himself for that. Physical injury was one thing. Mental trauma, another. And even if he still felt weak himself, at least that fact had been beaten into his head.

Henrik soon came out too, pockets filled to the brim with uneaten snacks. They should have been staying here for Jamie. He shouldn’t have broken down. Today wasn’t supposed to be about him. 

But even through the self-loathing and guilt and anguish, Chase still felt love for his family, deep down. Which is why when he shut himself in his room, flopped into the bed, and grabbed the picture of him and his Erika and Adrianna, it felt right. Not good. Cause he was ignoring Jameson whom he couldn’t help. And cause he was terrified of Jackie. And his relationship with Henrik must be on the rocks too. But he needed to think about his kids right now. And let out today’s wave of grief that he’d never see them again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I am trying to do a version of NaNoWriMo, only I'm writing 10 words a day, not 50k in a month. Also, next chapter, MEGA chapter. I don't feel right releasing it in parts, so it's gonna be a long one. Hope you're ready.


	34. Idling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henrik, Chase, and Jackie just got home from the hospital (it is Sunday). And what a day it’s been. But while there is always immediate threats, there is nothing Jackie feels like he can do right now. So, what can he do except embrace the idleness he finds himself in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, after some thought, I decided to make a "bridge" chapter between "The Truth Becomes Clear" and "Early Monday Mornings: 1-3am." It just... it makes me feel like continuity will be better. I WILL be moving this back after a couple days on here (though, it may be as late as next Thursday), giving old-time readers time to see it and read it before it gets put in as rightfully chapter 34.
> 
> content warning: mention of suicide attempt

Jackie didn’t know how to help Chase. He’d refused to talk to Jackie in the car. Didn’t answer his questions about, “What’s wrong?” “What can I do to help?” “What do you need?” Chase just kept crying, and trying to stop, and then breaking. Laid up in the back seat, Jackie couldn’t reach the front passenger side where Chase sat isolated. And once they’d gotten home and stopped in the drive, Chase wasted no time racing to the front door. He’d disappeared inside the house just as Henrik and Jackie stepped out of the car onto the pavement. A second after they closed the front door, a second door slammed upstairs.

Henrik ordered Jackie to “stay down here” before following their despondent brother. No sense of urgency in his stride, but rather a slowness, accompanied by a weight in his breaths as he ventured into an unstable setting. And as much as Jackie wished that he had wanted to go up and comfort Chase, his body obeyed Henrik. He climbed atop the couch, resting his shins on the middle cushion and peeking over the couch’s edge, gazing at a set of empty stairs. 

The desire to know still burned at his heart, so he tried turning an ear to listen. The only clear sounds he heard were a soft knock, a couple seconds of waiting, and the squeak of the door hinge opening and then closing again. Muffled though it was, he could make out Henrik’s voice and then the less muffled but still indecipherable yelling from Chase. Back and forth they went. And then one final phrase, “Get Out!” before both voices halted the conversation. There were footsteps, the opening of the door, pained crying from Chase, and the closing of the door again. No footsteps moving in the upstairs hall or down the stairs.

And as he was there, surrounded in the silence of their house, Jackie realized how tense his shoulders were, how much pressure was on his knees digging into the fabric, and how his nails were digging into the top of the couch, keeping him steady since he was leaning far over the edge to hear better. Chase wouldn’t be coming down. Seemed Henrik was staying up there too. Jackie let go. Carefully lowering himself down and turning around to face the right way forward. He transitioned further into laying fully down across the cushions, splayed out so the couch fully supported his weight, hopefully getting some relief from the lull of aching he felt. Staring up at the ceiling, Jackie put a hand behind his head and let out a big sigh. Every day. It was amazing how each new day found a way to be worse than the last.

Today, right now, anything his brain tried to process immediately overwhelmed his conscious thoughts to the point of paralyzing fear.

Chase was slipping into a downward spiral again, and Jackie didn’t know if he could handle having Chase try to kill himself again. And his heart ached at the thought of regret and loss and guilt.

Jameson was in a car crash, and one way or another, Cat caused it. And he had to admit his brothers could die any moment, and he wouldn’t be able save them now.

Cat. He was the cause of all his problems. If he could just get his powers back. Beat it into Cat that it wasn’t alright to mess with his family. But thinking of all the ways it could go wrong right now, in this house, with Chase and Henrik. He couldn’t cause another near death experience, or worse, an actual death.

Henrik didn’t believe him. Doubted everything he had to grapple with. It felt like he was losing the only person he could rely on for sanity.

His head was spinning. Because right now, it felt like he just had to be there for himself. His throat choked up and tears leaked out, but he wouldn’t fully cry. He had to be strong for himself. Get better so he could do something besides just sit here. But what the hell could he do? What could he do?

It was too tough to just lay there in silence. He didn’t want to rest, even if his body or common sense cried out that that’s what he should be doing. He couldn’t work at anything right now. The remote lay on the coffee table. Extending and grabbing it, he laid his hand atop his chest and started mindlessly scrolling through Netflix. Nothing was good. No movie, no series, no genre. His comfort shows required too much effort to be invested in. Screw it. That anime that broke his heart. He could be absorbed in it, get his heart shattered to bits, and feel a pain that could be understood by everyone around him, and cry and not have to justify it, and feel like it was okay again even though everything was in any sense of the term, “not okay”. He grabbed the blanket from atop the couch and threw it over himself. It was too hot, so he threw it to the side, still just barely on the couch’s edge, and cradled it softly in his arms. He silently wept as he started watching. Why? He didn’t know. Nothing sad had happened in the first three minutes of the pilot episode.

After two episodes, there was the sound of steps behind him. Jackie didn’t turn to look and see who. “Hey,” Henrik sounded ragged. Jackie didn’t respond. “Chase is asleep, for now.” Jackie didn’t want to engage. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he said softly, almost hoping that Henrik didn’t hear him.

“You watching this again?” Henrik sighed, knowing full well Jackie’s history with it. “You want water or juice?”

Jackie didn’t understand why he asked. “Either,” he again slurred, his voice a bit more audible this time.

“Any ideas for dinner?”

How could he be thinking of dinner right now? “No.” How could he even be functioning right now?

“Are you hungry now?”

Jackie tried to remember what he ate today. Did he actually eat cereal? It felt like breakfast was days ago. He’d only had the one granola bar Chase got him. “I should eat,” he admitted sadly. His stomach wasn’t reminding him of its energy deficit.

“What flavour are you craving?”

_ None _ . He licked the top of his mouth, trying to think. “Salt.”

“Alright.” The sound changing from soft padding about on the carpet to harder strikes on tile let Jackie know Henrik had moved into the kitchen. After a couple minutes, Henrik put a bowl of chips and glass of blue liquid in front of him on the coffee table. Finally, Jackie looked up at Henrik. “Salt and vinegar, like you like. And electrolytes.”

“Thank you.” Henrik went back to the kitchen and Jackie returned his focus to the show, still laying on the couch. About half way through the episode, he finally sat up to grab a bite and take a sip. It was almost euphoric to his taste buds, much better than he had wanted to feel. But he found himself mindlessly snacking. And slowly, he only focused on the plot of the show. Henrik mildly got involved with a couple of emotive noises every now and then.

He could hear Henrik leaving every now and then, but Jackie paid no mind to that. His snacks and food were replenished almost like magic (actually, when he wasn’t paying attention). And at one point, he smelled melted cheese. And then Henrik came out with a bowl of mac n’ cheese. Jackie didn’t even realize how quickly he ate it.

The episodes kept rolling, and the TV annoyingly asked if he was still watching, to which he answered, “Of course I am, you shit!” And Henrik moved without talking, every three episodes, and sometimes in between that too. Jackie knew instinctively it was getting late. This was the first time since he came home injured he’d actually enjoyed the idleness. And he’d keep thinking about the idle time, this show, caring about the characters and not thinking about himself. Cause look at them! They had problems, and they fell, but then they gathered their friends, and fired back. And it wouldn’t be life or death or high stakes until next season. So for now, it was all fine and nice. And it was manageable.

But after finishing the first season, Henrik finally spoke up. “Alright Jackie, I think you need to sleep.”

“No, please!” Netflix had already put that condescending ‘Are you still watching?’ message on the screen again. He didn’t want to stop. He knew he should stop. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to watch into the night, to three am, to seven am, to be awake when everyone else was just waking up (well, would have been waking up). But that’s what he wanted to do.

“No,” Henrik pressed further, turning off the TV. “You need rest.” That was when Jackie realized Chase hadn’t come down once during his entire binge.

“Is Chase still asleep?”

“I think so.” Jackie felt like his emotions were dialed up to 11. And he was so full of compassion for the character’s hardships, that he couldn’t stand knowing Chase was suffering (now that he was coming back to real life).

“Can we sleep upstairs? Chase sleepover?” It felt like he was a kid asking that. No, simple. He was being simple. Because if it was a simple problem, it was a simple solution. If he could just pretend they had simple problems, then the simple fixes would work.

“Alright.” Oh, okay. Didn’t expect that he wouldn’t have to fight and whine.

Henrik helped Jackie walk up the stairs and get to the bathroom. Jackie took a quick few minutes to brush his teeth and splash some water on his face. But then he went straight for Chase’s door. Hand on the handle, he was ready for this, but another hand stopped him.

“No,” Henrik whispered forcefully. “Better to just sleep out here.”

“But you-”

“SssssSShhhhHHh!” Henrik went to cover Jackie’s mouth. Jackie listened and heard some faint crying from inside. It had been hours since they came home. And he was still crying.  _ Better crying than dying _ . That was such a harsh thought. Henrik let go.

“Okay,” Jackie acquiesced. “You sleeping here too?”

“I... I don’t think I can sleep on the floor.” It was painful to hear Henrik be like this. But, at least Jackie could be here in spirit. Shuffling on uneven feet down the hall to his actual room, he grabbed a blanket and pillow from his bed and made a place for himself on the ground right outside Chase’s door (careful not to block the doorway though). It was hard to get comfy, but he eventually got himself to a point where his legs were numb with tired. It became easier to lean into the soft once Henrik turned off the hall lights and retired to his own room.

Jackie could hear the faint sound of crying sometimes. It sounded like it was sleep crying though. Softer, less biting. He started trying to think of what could make Chase cry so much but quickly stopped himself. Chase was dealing with different things than he. Had different coping mechanisms. Maybe while Jackie was better with avoiding, Chase was better with emoting. Still, he wished Chase would talk to him. Or Henrik. He didn’t want Chase to suffer silently and then try and silence himself again.

A long time had passed. Enough for Jackie to turn over and over at least four times to try and get comfy. But then there was a door creak. Jackie looked at the handle above him, and it was still stationary. Then it squeaked closed again. There were small steps, like sneaking. Jackie tried to turn his head slowly, look at the far edge of his vision. A pillow was placed down, and then a person. Jackie slowly returned to a more natural sleeping position. His brain finally allowed itself to shut off. And even though he had to relax his mouth to drift into unconsciousness, he still felt the corners of his lips turn upwards.


	35. Early Monday Morning: 1am - 3am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday, Jameson was in a car wreck. And while his family are glad he's okay, they're all home without him. And while it's been a good day, it's been a stressful day. And sleep gives a person time to process stress.  
> Well, I never said what type of stress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta say, I really enjoyed writing these early morning chapters.
> 
> Content warning: car crash, blood, slit throat  
> **change, Jackie is sleeping in a hallway, not downstairs

1am

Red light ahead. Jameson eased off the gas and lightly onto the brake, coming to a gentle stop a bit before the line, just as he liked it. Flipping the right turn signal on, he looked to his sides to see the influx of traffic. Slow day, at least for his direction. No cars next to him, and only a few going the opposite way. There was the usual hustle and bustle going across in front of him though. And taking the pause in opportunity, he stole a glance at Emma. She wasn’t leaning back against her seat. More upright, shoulders down, hands folded neatly in her lap. Jameson shrunk back into his seat and focused on the intersection. Seemed she was nervous about this too. But, they were friends. Surely, starting conversation shouldn’t be so hard a thing to do.

The light was taking an exceptionally long time today. Then his phone played three notes, and his heart froze. The world around him went, a black and white haze replacing all color as he felt like he was fading away. A voice rang crystal clear in his head, “relax,” soothing him as he lost all feeling.

It was like he was watching himself. A floating camera showing him in the third person, but he still had the constant video stream from his own eyes’ view. Fog clouded his brain so he could only process what was happening in front of him, memorized information only becoming available when triggered, and tangential thoughts ceasing.

The car inched forward over the line and turned slightly right. Cars still whizzed by in front of them. This was not him; he never turned on red. The light switched to yellow and the onslaught of vehicles appeared to have ended.

But Jameson’s head turned to the left. There was a car still coming forward. Far away, but not slowing. As the intersection turned to all red, he saw himself smirk. His focus shifted and became centered on the traffic light in front of him, moments away from green. Jameson could hear his own heart starting to race.

The green came and there was a second of pause as his foot shifted over to the gas pedal. Jameson screamed in his head to stop, pull back, take control. He could only watch on in horror as his car moved forward. Moving slow, showing off the side of the car while maneuvering into the lane farther from the curb. Jameson was looking at Lydia while the outer-body shot showed the car barreling towards them. He saw her arms grip the seat and the door. Her eyes wide as she was trying to take in everything. And then finally, a last “JAME-” before everything cut to black.

Straining his eyes open, everything was normal. Single, first person perspective. The feeling of the strap digging into him. Blood pounding against his head. Upside down corrected to right side up. Colored scenery. Mangled, bloody scenery. And even with the blur in his vision, he could still see enough.

Her hair was touching the ceiling. Glass flecks embedded in her face, causing blood to run across it. And further up, disaster. The airbag hadn’t been enough. Metal pierced through the seatbelt into her chest. Red started to stain around the area. Jameson reached out for her, but that only made him dizzier. He wanted to call her name. Hear that she was still alive. But her eyes were still shut. There was the sound of running get and the distant wail of sirens. His eyes fluttered closed, fighting gravity, his tiredness, and his need to make sure she was okay. And in the end, everything went dark again.

Jameson shot up from his bed, his hand grasping at his fast-pounding heart. It took a minute of breathing, but he finally laid back down. But now he remembered. He remembered all of it. And he could feel himself tear up. Because as terrifying as it was to see her like that, it was just as terrifying to see what he’d actually done. To be disembodied like that... Jameson hugged himself tight. It was like he was someone’s puppet.

  
___________________________________  
  


2am

It wasn’t exactly... fair, bringing someone else into this. But nothing ever was fair. He knew that. Had to take what you wanted out of life. Damn whoever got in your way. Use strategy when possible, but don’t be afraid to bring your fist down. Hard.

But manipulating this nightmare served him no purpose. Nothing more than to watch as fear sank in. His partner called it additional practice. He’d dug into her memories, but they were of no use to him. Couldn’t further his agenda. It sickened him though, watching how easy they had it. Ability to be bored, to be slow, to engage in frivolous conversation. Conceal feelings not out of shame or fear. Their peaceful existence was because of his absence.

He slashed her throat in the nightmare before shakily returning to his own body. Sweat beads formed as he took a few short breaths. This burning feeling inside of him just reminded him of when he first found out.

No. He’d never let himself feel shirked again. And if he couldn’t take what he was owed, or coerce an existence, then he’d end them. He’d rather there be nothing left than be forgotten about again.

As he left, his hand lifted unbeknownst to him. Darkness found its way into the target. Things that were fixed tore open again. Hopefully, the damage would be more permanent this time around.

________________________________  
  
  


3am

The bed was long and tall. He’d been in the big boy bed for a month now. But having the space to move and hide away didn’t make this any less terrifying. A crack of lightning cast the window pane’s shadow onto his bed. Then the thunder trembled and he could feel the shake and roll in his bones. Jackie bunched his star-dotted blanket closer to him. The plush couldn’t comfort him and his shakes though.

He knew Henrik was just down the hall. But his big brother was already annoyed with him today. Playing rough and making Chase cry. He’d only tucked him in tonight. No stories or asking about what he wanted to learn about tonight. Just a ‘goodnight, sleep well.’ Jackie enjoyed when Henrik would talk to him about his schools or classes. His brother’s voice was so warm and nice to hear.

Light flashed as a warning before another raucous boom. Jackie hid himself fully under the covers, sitting up straight because he couldn’t relax now. Even if Henrik would be kind enough to talk to him now, Jackie wasn’t sure he could ever sleep. This was much worse than the other storms he’s experienced. Dad was bigger and stronger than Henrik. A third boom rang out and little Jackie jolted up again. Even if Dad could comfort him, he couldn’t stop the flashes and bangs that terrorized him.

Jackie began thinking he would never fall asleep. And he was so tired already. But what if the house was struck? What if they flooded and he couldn’t get back downstairs? What if the wind blew down his house? “Marvin! I’m scared!” Jackie cried softly, wrapping the blanket around him more and grabbing his cat plushie. He would hug it tight until Marvin came.

“Jackie?” A small high-pitched voice called. Jackie lifted the edge of the blanket to peek out. His friend was standing near his bed. Long dark dress that went past his feet and sleeves down over his hands. Hair much messier than normal. And he smelled like lavender, as always. Even one whiff and Jackie already felt his muscles relaxing a bit. “What’s wrong?”

“The storm, Marv. I think it’s gonna blow down the house.” More lightning flashed and Jackie now shut his eyes and squeezed his cat tight, trying to prepare for the rattle that came less than a second later. Rain was beating so hard against the side of the house. And the wind picked up again and made terrible sounds.

And then Marvin grabbed Jackie’s hands through his sleeves, making the scared little boy open up. He peeked through, still so afraid of the world around him. “Jackie. The storm can’t harm you.” The rain belted against the window and more lightning and thunder rolled. Jackie yanked his hands away, wrapping them around himself and his plush again.

Undeterred, Marvin pulled himself up onto the bed. Jackie turned to face Marvin. The sheets turned with him so that he now had a long flowing cape of blanket extending from his head, falling at his sides, and extending to the foot of the bed. They sat together for a moment. Then Marvin grabbed Jackie’s hands again, the tiny boy allowing his friend to hold them for more than a second this time. Even through the cloth surrounding his hands, Jackie still felt Marvin’s warmth. “Remember, repeat after me.” Jackie gave a quick nod before lightning flashed again. He cringed at the thunder accompanying it. Hopefully they could do something together. “And hold tight.” Jackie squeezed even harder to hold Marvin’s hands. He wished they could just hold hands like normal people, but Marvin had a thing about touching hands.

Marvin bent his head down and closed his eyes. Jackie bent his head down too, looking and focusing on their hands. “I am here.”

“I am here.”

“I am strong.”

“I am strong.” The wind outside sounded stronger though.

“I have the power.”

“I have the power.” Their hands started to glow green. Okay, Marvin was working. This was working. Jackie kept his eyes on Marvin.

“I can protect.”

“I can protect.” The green glow joined together into one morphing amalgamation of a blob between their hands.

“I am safe here.”

“I am safe here.” The blob slowly expanded into a full circle that encompassed both of them. The world seemed to quiet down. There were still the flashes of light and thunder and rain and wind, but it all seemed so much dimmer now.

“Here is peaceful.”

“Here is peaceful.”

“Here, I am loved.”

“Here I am loved.” Marvin bowed his head down a bit and the circle seemed to expand more. Filling up the whole room like a big green bubble. Once the edges touched everything, it seemed to pop and sparkles rained down on them, gracing everything with their shine. It made Jackie smile. Everything seemed so much calmer now.

“Done,” Marvin said, sounding kinda tired. He took a big sniff before bringing his head back up. Jackie looked into Marvin’s eyes. He definitely looked tired. Marvin always seemed so tired whenever Jackie saw him. What could his imaginary friend possibly be getting up to while he was away?

Lightning broke again, but the rumble wasn’t so bad. The flash illuminated the growing dark line on Marvin’s face. “Marvin? Your nose...” Marvin reached up, exposing his hand and touching his own face. The darkness came off onto his finger.

“Oh.”

“Did you overdo it again?” Marvin always had different side effects to using his magic. Almost all of them were not very good. 

“Guess so. Have you been focusing your energy like I was saying?”

It was at that moment Jackie remembered his promise to Marvin last time. He turned his head towards a wall. “no...” He was supposed to try and feel the energy within him. Concentrate on it. Move it to a single focus point so he could manifest it on his own. But Marvin was the magic one. Jackie couldn’t use magic, not without Marvin. If he could have, he would have. Would make it easier to deal with the meanies at school. He wished Marvin could help with them, but Marvin never showed up in the daytime.

“You want me to try and help you find it again?” Marvin asked, a big yawn following. Even if Jackie wanted to ‘awaken his powers,’ Marvin was tired. And then he yawned a big yawn too. They were both tired.

“You need sleep first.” Marvin didn’t protest, falling fast back onto bed, head falling squarely on the edge of the pillow. Jackie tried to move the corners of the blanket all around so it was the right way on the bed, like Henrik always said. He scooched up the bed and pulled the blanket along overtop of Marvin. “Marvin?” But Marvin’s eyes were already closed. His breaths were loud, but that was a noise Jackie could handle.

The chaos outside seemed so distant and small, even though the illusion was slightly marred whenever Jackie glanced at the window. Slipping under the sheet, Jackie laid next to Marvin. In the morning, he’d sadly be gone. So, even if asleep, Jackie would say, “I love you Marvin.” Because even if he was just his imaginary friend, he felt like family. Nuzzling into Marvin’s warmth, he felt himself grow numb and eventually go to sleep.

That numbness started to slowly wear off, lavender scent still tingling in his nose. It was hard to remember his dream exactly. But Jackie had a warm fuzzy feeling in his heart. And an inexplicable urge to get his old starry blanket from when he was a little kid. He looked around the hallway outside Chase’s door. Henrik was asleep. Glad he was finally able to give himself a rest. Switching sides, Jackie laid his head back down on the pillow. It didn’t feel as soft as it did when he went to sleep. Guess he’d have to try and get himself comfortable again, back to sleep. Maybe he could have that dream again. First time he felt good, felt safe, in weeks. Even if it was just in his dreams. Let him be safe, for just a little while.


	36. Early Monday Morning: 4am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looks like everyone is getting a vivid dream tonight. Now it's Chase's turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: dead children (I am so sorry. I don't kill them on-screen. No gore)

4am

It was impossible. But there they were, standing in the doorway, small luggage bags trailing behind them. The second best thing about this was getting to see their faces change into big smiles, dropping anything in their hands as they came rushing at him yelling, “Daddy!!!” He was already squatting down, arms wide, body ready for the crashing impact of his 5- and 7-year old finally being in his arms again.

They collided with him, his arms already wrapped around embracing them, squeezing them tightly against his chest. It was indescribable how good it felt to be able to hold them again after over a year apart. Erika smelled like peaches. Little orchard. And Addie had moved on to a different floral scent. Little orchid. Of course, Chase knew that they didn’t really smell like that. But they always did in his dreams. Erika loved peaches. Adrianna was budding to be a florist.

They were trying to hug him, each barely getting one arm around his back and the other across his chest. It was a mess to try and hold them like this, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

Chase took the moment to quickly kiss them both on the cheek. “Daddy missed you so much!” He was crying, but these were tears of joy. The best kind to have.

“We missed you too daddy,” Erika said a little too loudly in his ear. But it was one of the sweetest sounds in the world right now.

He let them go and pulled back to get a good look at them. They both had gotten noticeably taller. Erika had her hair trimmed short, again. Addie had let hers grow out longer. Her curls had turned to waves. They both still looked like his little princesses. Hopefully their little tiaras still fit them. 

“Daddy, why are you crying?” Adrianna was always a little too quick at sensing when Chase was sad (though, this time was more obvious). Or maybe she was just a very observant child.

“I just love you both so So much.” Chase then seized the opportunity to kiss each of his girls on the forehead, making them giggle and squirm a bit. He wanted to make sure they knew they were loved by him. Didn’t ever want them to forget that.

“Is that my two favorite nieces I hear?” the loud, bombastic voice called from the kitchen. The girls had already left Chase and were running over to their uncle. Chase turned around to see them crashing into Jackie, nearly knocking him back a step. Erika hugged his leg and Adrianna was almost tall enough to grip around his waist. He patted them both on the head and they nuzzled him a bit. “When did you two grow up so big?” he played around, picking up Erika and letting her sit in the crook of his arm. She was absolutely beaming at Jackie. It paid to be the fun uncle.

“We haven’t grown  _ that _ much Uncle Jackie!” Adrianna protested, craning her neck to look up at him.

“You haven’t?” His younger brother effortlessly bent down and scooped Adrianna up with one hand, both girls now sitting comfortably on each arm. “Then how come you’re both as tall as me?” he joked, lifting them up to his eye level and turning to look each of them in the eye. It was so nice to hear them both laughing again. Even if it was his goofball brother causing it.

But once the bit had run its course, Jackie released them back to the ground. “Alright girls, why don’t you and your dad go find your other two uncles. I’m sure they’d love to see you two.” Jackie gave a closed lip smile to them before they turned around and ran back to Chase. Each grabbed a hand and started tugging. Of course, Chase went along, following behind on this hide-and-seek quest, despite knowing exactly where his brothers were. He looked back at Jackie before disappearing down the hallway to Henrik’s office. Jackie was walking over to the front door, but Chase saw him nod.

And even though he didn’t see his lips move, Chase heard Jackie’s voice ring crystal clear in his ears. “We’ll keep them safe, Chase. Promise.” As strange as the encounter seemed, Chase appreciated that sentiment.

But as soon as he turned his head, the hall was engulfed in darkness, a faint red light barely glowing at the end of it, and an eerily cold warmth to his side. Chase picked up the contradictory candle, a faint yellow glow now illuminating the area around him, and set down the hall. “Adrianna? Erika?” Some _ thing _ laughed back at him, low and slow. It twisted his stomach in knots and sent a chill up his spine. “Where are they!?” He yelled to the void. The red light seemed to pulse. Chase ran towards it. Faster and faster. A shadow started to take form in the middle of it.

But then the hall opened up and he was outside. Dusk. The air was still, a strange briskness (but not quite ice) in it. There was no red glow; it had been replaced by a person in a red hoodie. They were sitting on the ground. The lawn was muddy and felt slippery, but Chase stepped closer to them. The person didn’t seem to mind the mud their clothes were gathering.

And as Chase came ever closer, he realized three important things. One, his girls were in this person’s arms. Two, as he ran (then slipped and slid) down in front of this person, he realized it was his brother. And three, Jackie was still crying, but no longer making noise.

They were just laying there in his arms. “What happened?” But Jackie didn’t change. Chase scooped Erika up from Jackie since she was on top. Jackie tried to reach out with his hand, stop Chase, but he didn’t extend more than a few inches. After a pause, he retracted, cradling Adrianna even more.

And that’s when Chase’s brain started to put pieces together. Erika wasn’t shifting in his arms. Her face was much paler than normal. She was much more lax and felt much heavier than when she normally fell asleep in his arms. “Erika?” Chase put his head on her tiny little chest. There was no sound, there was no rise or fall. No signs of anything. “no, no No No...” he started to spiral.

Chase hugged her close, running his fingers through her hair. He inhaled, and it was like a spoiled apple. Without thought, he ripped Adrianna from Jackie and held her tight and close too. Wilted flowers. “No No NO!” He bent his head down, and let out a wail from the depths of his soul. And yet, it wasn’t even close to helping express how he felt. Cause they couldn’t be gone. He’d just got them back. And now? now...

“You were supposed to protect them!!” he screamed, barely able to see his brother through the blurry tears. There were noises, but Jackie never formed a word. And Chase continued to sob, holding his two girls close.

Chase woke up in a hot sweat, tears freshly forming in his eyes. Just another perverted nightmare, reminding him they were dead. He turned over in his bed then proceeded to curl up a bit. At least he got to hold them this time. But his mind was so cruel. To have had them come back, to actually have them back finally. Just to tear them away again. His tears were silent there, in his bed. He didn’t want to leave his bed today. Didn’t want to sleep either. But even if the tired in his body won out, it would be a long day anyway. He didn’t want today to be a day. Just let himself be a wallowing mess. Missing his girls whom he didn’t actually get to hold in their final moments.


	37. Early Monday Morning: 5am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's one brother we still haven't touched upon. Henrik's used to nightmares though. They're just a bitch to live through

5am

Disorienting. That was a good way to describe how his nights always started. Recreations of memories, different times, different scenarios, never sure when he was. But someone always came about in the first few seconds, snapping him into place.

This time, he was at a funeral. When he saw how little his brothers were, he realized who’s funeral it was. Chase was slumped against a wall, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. Jameson and Jackie were sticking to each other like glue and trying their best to stay by either of their big brothers. Right now, they were cowering behind Henrik’s legs. But judging by the stir in the crowd and ominous peace he was experiencing right now, that was about to end shortly.

Older adults that weren’t his family came over to crowd him. Taking turns offering their deepest condolences, saying they were sorry for his loss, talking about how his father was a good man, that he was being so strong right now. And on and on with the niceties that you were expected to say to a grieving person without actually offering any relief. But it all got to the point where he had to interrupt one of them to leave. He quickly found his way to the bathroom and barely had time to get to the toilet before vomiting. He was expected to act a certain way, all day, damn anything he did or didn’t feel. There were no breaks for himself. Could barely manage to snag any scrap of food or get a drink of water in him. Was swarmed by people he didn’t care about or want to talk to. And right now, between the walls of this small stall, he was completely alone for the first time since he woke up. Didn’t have to worry about anyone but himself for a few minutes. And wasn’t that a hell of a thing.

He didn’t even want to be at the funeral. His father ceased being some he could rely on about a year ago. But, for his brothers, that still had a sense of unaffected love for Jack, he’d stay. Cause despite any of this, he still loved them with all his heart. (Hell, practically raised them as well).

But as soon as Henrik dared to open his eyes, he was sitting on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Neck stretched over the top edge of the cushions and aching down to the spine. He leaned forward and started rubbing it, aggravating his back now.  _ I’m too young for this kind of shit _ , he heard himself narrate. But when rolling his head around to try and feel better, a grating sound graced his ears. “You’re awake!”

Being conscious of his dream, Henrik knew that was a terrible thing to think about Jackie. But, then again, his younger self was being forced into adulthood prematurely. “Whatzzit?” he slurred, still kept in this state of reliving his past.

“Jameson was wondering when we’d be getting dinner.”

Henrik sighed, already exhausted at the thought of having to cook dinner again. “Did you already talk to Chase?”

“He’s not home yet.” Jackie was an adorable kid. Little round face. Hair that was just made to tossle. A little bounce in his step when he walked. Joy in his eyes whenever he would talk. A smile almost always on his face. Even now, with this mundane conversation, it was there. But Henrik was too stressed and overworked and overwhelmed to be eased by his little brother’s smile and carefree nature.

He dragged an exhausted hand down his face, giving him time to look at the clock and think of an acceptable response. Which, the only acceptable response was to start dinner. Six thirty already. It was so irresponsible of Chase to go and hang out with his friends right now, leaving Henrik alone to handle their other two brothers. And today, he was already exhausted from trying to become versed in financial literacy.

It was a right mess. But the two growing kids needed food. And he couldn’t just tell them to ignore their hunger like he did, lest they get sick, and that would be a whole other headache. Henrik groaned as he slowly rose from the couch and slumped over into the kitchen. “Get Jamesz in here too,” he lazily commanded.

But as he crossed the kitchen doorway, he was in a different place. In Jack’s old office, that was now, he supposed, his office. Trying to remedy all these different documents. He’d dropped out of college, against his own desires. And now there was all this noise and pressure and chores he had to do. And he had to figure out a way to get a job too. And he could just hear the TV blaring in the other room for the two young ones. Chase was probably getting scraped up somewhere, or listening to music in his room. All of them were so needy. He hated that he thought that. But no one was helping. Jameson was trying his best, but a 6-year old can’t do much to help. Jackie was a bit more conscious as an 8-year old, and was trying not to pester Henrik a lot, but he had just a constant need to talk and be with people and that drained Henrik’s already frustrated and tired brain. And Chase... whether it was just him being a 13-year old who didn’t like talking with Henrik about anything, or laziness, Henrik could not depend on him to help more than just barely baby-sitting his brothers.

And even if they thought they were trying, Henrik wasn’t an adult, despite being just over eighteen. He didn’t need them to leave him alone, he needed someone to teach him how to handle finances. How to pay bills. How to balance a budget. How to get a credit card. How to pay a mortgage. How to try and take care of a family. And he wished he could balance going to college and doing  _ any _ of this. Cause it wasn’t fair that he had to sacrifice his life to keep his family together. And no one was there to help him besides himself.

He was laying on his bed now. Woken up by a toddler creeping into the bed with him. Despite the fact that Jameson couldn’t speak, he was trying to be louder when he moved so as not to scare his family members. But Henrik wished that he didn’t even have to deal with this. Sure his dad was trying to take care of the littlest one of the family, but by Henrik’s assessment, was failing miserably. Why else would Jameson be crawling into bed with  _ him _ for comfort? Because  _ he _ knew how to make little kids feel safe and cared for. Cause he was the one who’d raised the other two as well, not their dad.

And the worst thought crossed his brain again. He’d wished they’d never adopted Jameson. Sure, the little boy was adorable and loving. But they couldn’t handle another one. And even though he had no proof, he always thought that Jack just got another baby cause he missed out on Jackie’s baby years because Marvin was a stillborn. That was over four years ago, and he couldn’t blame little two year old Jameson for whatever reason he was here. But he could blame Jack. For trying to get it right but not making the effort. Henrik didn’t like having to raise them. He still did it though, and tried to be nice with them.

With a close and open of the eyes, he was bandaging an older Jackie on the couch. Just finished up a long row of stitches on his arm. Judging by the irritated look on Jackie’s face, Henrik had probably just finished giving him a right yelling about the danger he put himself in. Put others in. But the boy was naive, feeling like he could do anything with his powers. Disregarded his own life and health to play superhero. He didn’t even know how to effectively dodge a punch to get the upper hand. Always relied on Henrik being there to patch him up. That would change when he left for school in a month. Didn’t know if he could count on Chase to be responsible for Jackie. Wasn’t even responsible enough to go to college so now he was slumming it in retail. If either of them could have been like Jameson... Quiet. Thoughtful. A net positive on the family. Hell, if Jackie just used his energy in an actual, productive way.

And Henrik’s narrator voice rang crystal clear in his head.  _ If he just had a more healthy outlet _ . Flash back to the time when Jackie rushed into that burning building, before he even had powers, thinking he could save people the firemen couldn’t. Back to when Henrik had to go in for a guidance counselor conference when Jackie had beaten up three other boys, earning two bruises himself. Back to when he got Chase into parkour, ending with Chase in a cast for weeks on end. Back to when he broke the radio playing ‘super tag’ in the house. Back to when he decided it was fun to play in a near flood-like storm and Henrik had to go and rescue him from down the street. Back to when he thought punching and wrestling until his brothers bruised was a good way to have fun. Back to when he wouldn’t shut up as a baby and kept everyone up at night. Back to the start when everything changed for worse when he showed up.

And a different thought, new thought, came out.  _ Would have been better if he’d never been born _ . Horrible thought. And Henrik shook his head, leaving him back in the time when he was holding his new baby brother. Yes, he was small. He was loud. He required a lot of attention. But he couldn’t blame a baby for that. And Henrik remembered thinking that maybe little Jackie missed the companion he’d grown to know for the past 9 months.

And that’s when the dream shattered and Henrik’s eyes opened with a startle. His heart was pounding. Cause this wasn’t his dream. Yes, it was his memories, but they were.... tainted. And he could remember the process of how all of it went down. And what he’d just felt ... it wasn’t the narrative of his life. Not fully, anyway. He cared for his brothers. He didn’t despise them, or hate them. Especially not Jackie when he was just acting out. And in the few seconds it took to reconcile his real feelings and not this strung along story, he realized one good thing came from this nightmare. He remembered Jackie’s twin. He remembered Marvin.

As he sat in the hallway with his recovered memory and looked over at Jackie, still asleep, his heart started to ache. Henrik hunched over, staring down blankly. “Oh god, Marvin.” He buried his face in his hands, finally, and quietly, mourning the brother he never knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I am still really enjoying writing, but it's kinda hard to gauge if you all (audience) are still enjoying it. I do see the reader count go up, but I don't know if that's people returning to read the new chapter or someone new finding it.  
> So, I have a huge favor to ask. If you are actually enjoying this, just comment "hello" so I can know if people are sticking by this story.  
> Also, I am definitely going until at least 41 chapters, if not 42. So, we are coming near an end times.


	38. Rest, Weary Traveler / I'm home, but feel so far away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jameson, having been given a good enough bill of health, is back at home. And whether it's all the exhaustion of this week, or the events of yesterday, or something else entirely, everyone is acting different today. That's not a bad thing. But everyone handles exhaustion and crises differently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for getting it up late. Had to do some adulting stuff.  
> content warning: grief

Jameson wished he would have gotten the chance to check in on Emma before he had to leave. But Henrik had said she was getting some tests run. Strange that he didn’t need tests run too, but then again, her injuries had to have been more severe than his. And he became downcast again, reminded of the pain he caused.

There wasn’t any fanfare when he came home. He supposed that was a good thing. Didn’t want to make this a huge deal. Though, he did admit, it still was significant. But hopefully he could manage his condition, perhaps with small consultations with Henrik once or twice as well. 

Jackie was on the couch, watching television. Something that used 2D animation. “Glad to see you back Jameson!” Jackie made the effort to switch from laying down to sitting up as tall as he could (though that was probably from all the excitement). Jameson came over and gave him a gentle hug, trying to keep his torso out of reach and the time he spent bent over brief.

“Thank you. You okay?” Jameson returned, trying to subtly gesture at Jackie’s leg.

“This? Oh, it’s doing great! Can almost walk without limping! Isn’t that right Henrik?” Henrik looked up at them for a second, but then continued to walk behind the couch to the kitchen. “But you! How you?”

“Okay, for now.” Jameson had a lot of muddled thoughts in his mind, but his body was at least being kind right now. And Jackie sure seemed in a good mood today.

“Bet it’s better now that you’re back here.”  _ Well- _ “Sit, take my seat,” Jackie hopped over to the rightmost couch cushion and patted the vacated middle cushion expectantly. Jameson had no real choice he supposed. He  _ was  _ supposed to rest after all. “Pillow?” Jackie was already placing it behind Jameson’s back. “Trust me, the cushioning is fantastic for making you feel better.” Jameson smiled at Jackie and leaned back into it. In truth, it felt stranger to have it there than just empty space. “Oh! Did you wanna put something on? I got like five minutes left on this, but then we can switch, yeah?”

While Jameson appreciated Jackie’s... enthusiasm in supporting him, Jameson would have preferred he (well, all of them) just act normally. Even if that meant Jackie had full control of the TV while Jameson did something else entirely, possibly while listening to music. “There’s no need to fuss over me. Really.” Always the polite one. “I think I’ll get some food though.”

“Okay. Think of what you wanna watch!”  _ Great British Bake Off, first season. _ If he decided he even wanted to watch anything. It was wholesome.

In the kitchen, Henrik was leaning against the countertop, holding a mug with both hands, occasionally taking sips. The room didn’t smell of coffee. “Drink?” Jameson inquired.

“Huh?” Henrik was staring at Jameson’s chest.

He repeated himself. “Drink?”

“Oh. Lemon tea. Hope you don’t mind, I took from your stash.” Henrik was staring at his drink, seemingly unable to keep his head up.

Unsure if he could hold a conversation, Jameson went to getting out a few eggs, some shredded cheese, a fry pan, and a spatula. He wanted to make an omelet, something easy and simple to eat, finally. But even after five minutes, the room was still devoid of conversation. Jameson needed to talk to Henrik. If nothing else than for the promise he made himself to not stay silent. He grabbed the kitchen’s pad of paper and scribbled down “ _ You alright?” _ Before sliding it over to Henrik, making sure to gently bump his fingers and grab his attention.

It took Henrik a couple ticks to even look at the sheet, and much longer to respond. “My nightmares last night. Really messed with my head. I just got a lot on my mind.”

Jameson decided to push the issue. “Want to talk about it?” he signed.

“No no,” Henrik waved him off. “Not now anyway. Maybe later.” This time, his brother afforded himself an actual, large gulp from the mug. Jameson finished cooking up his omelet before continuing on.

“How is Chase?” His brother stared into the mug. It felt like a minute passed, and then he took a long, drawn out drink that finished off his tea. And even then, he still started at the empty mug for a time.

“I don’t think he’s stopped crying. ... Only heard him leave his room once since we came home yesterday. Didn’t want either of us in his room either. I...” Henrik took in a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what happened. Or how to help him.”

Jameson had decided then. He carefully bounced up the stairs, making sure the omelet didn’t fall off the plate, and knocked on Chase’s door thrice. Leaning his ear on the door, he listened for a sound. Nothing. But maybe that meant his brother was asleep.

Trying to stay balanced, Jameson opened the door and looked in. Even though the curtains were strewn across the window pane, the sunlight streaming through the fabric appeared to be enough to illuminate the room. Closing the door behind him, Jameson navigated Chase’s messy floor over to the bed. Gently moving things off the night stand, he set the plate down before turning to Chase. His brother had his right arm draped across his face, blocking his eyes. The other hand lay on his stomach, rising up and down steadily.

Two small knocks on the wood. If he was in fact asleep, it shouldn’t disturb him much. But, Chase did stir, peeking out a bit before covering his eyes again. A deep-seated gurgle of an empty stomach filled the room. But the man only winced slightly before returning to his former position. If Chase didn’t eat soon, his stomach pain would evolve worse and maybe into a splitting headache. Jameson would work to prevent that. He could at least remedy Chase’s physical pain.

There was a pad of paper on the desk. Tearing out a clean sheet, Jameson scribbled quickly on it before placing it between Chase’s hand and his stomach. “ _ You need to eat. _ ”

After reading the sentiment, Chase groaned and rolled onto his side, away from Jameson. “Mm not hungry,” he partially murmured. His stomach greatly protested though. “Don’t want to.” He was like a child trying to prove how tough he was. Thing was, it was okay to not be strong. To need help from others. Jameson wanted to be, hoped he was seen, as someone whom Chase could rely on. And right now, that meant just being here, and trying to take care of him when he couldn’t do it himself.

Another fresh sheet of paper. He wrote a bit. Then a bit more. And a final dot. “ _ Can I rest here with you for a bit? Just maybe ten minutes. You don’t have to talk. _ ” Jameson simply laid it in front of his brother. This time, he was faster to read it.

“Sure, I guess.” He didn’t shift, so Jameson went around the other side of the bed and gently laid down in the free space of the mattress. It was a bit snug, but the boys were laying next to each other. Chase rolled back onto his back and covered his eyes, same as when Jameson found him. Jameson laid on his back, straight as a pin, hands folded neatly on his stomach. His surgery site was still tender, but it didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would.

Jameson didn’t time how long they were laying there. Actually, his timer was essentially when Chase would kick him out or when he himself got too hungry to just lay there. But after what had to be at least five minutes, Jameson decided to be bold. He moved his left hand so that it was now laying on top of Chase’s left, resting gently on his brother’s stomach. It was strangely calming to feel someone else’s breathing. Chase flinched at the touch, but didn’t pull away. If Jameson couldn’t reach out with words, he’d do it physically.

It took a minute before noises other than stomach pangs came from Chase. Jameson didn’t look, but it sounded like Chase was choked up, crying. Jameson wouldn’t force conversation. He kept his eyes affixed to the ceiling as best he could and his hand wrapped around Chase’s. Let him decide where to go next.

“Hey Jameson?” Chase coughed a little before going on. “Can I tell you something? Promise to keep it secret.” Jameson stole a sideways glance at Chase. He was looking at the ceiling. So, Jameson mirrored. He squeezed Chase’s hand twice. “Ok.” Chase tried to clear his throat. Maybe laying down sobbing wasn’t the best option for him right now. But he stayed that way. “There are only two things that I’ve been really afraid of... losing my family, and, having the people I love turn on me.” It was hard to stay still and hear how composed Chase was trying to be through the voice cracks and intermittent swallowing and tearing up. “I’ve already lost my kids.” Chase stifled a sob, trying his best to recover quickly to coherence. “And now, I think Jackie wants to kill me. I mean, I- I don’t think he wants to, but... but he can’t control his unconscious. And I- I really don’t– don’t want to feel this scared, Jameson. Cause really, I am afraid to die. But I can’t– I can’t change what– what happened. And I can’t– he won’t–” Chase’s words devolved into more crying. But he needed to keep talking. “I thought I already survived the– the worst day of my life. But I don’t think I can handle this J. I just, I– I–” but he was already crying too much to talk and let go of Jameson’s hand.

Jameson finally allowed himself to really look at his brother. Chase had flipped over, burying his head in the pillow and squishing it in from the sides. What should he have said to that? Even if Jameson were to answer back the basic fears with logic, that wasn’t the point. Chase felt unsafe around Jackie– Jackie, of all people! And Jameson couldn’t begin to imagine how having your kids kidnapped by your ex would feel like. Chase was scared, frightened, terrified. Jameson couldn’t make Chase feel how much love he held for him. Nor how much the others loved him. All he could do was be here. He laid a soft hand on Chase’s shoulder. But Chase swatted it away. “No!” He shook his head into the pillow, burying his hands back underneath it, accompanied with a softer, “Please, no.”

Jameson didn’t think this was what Chase needed, but he would acquiesce to his brother’s request. After discreetly removing himself from the bed, he started to walk out. But he’d leave one last note. A clink of the fork against the plate (now housing a room temp omelet) and two knocks on the wood night stand. Hopefully Chase would eat soon. The best thing out of this was that he at least had a better picture of what was going on. Not comprehensive by any measure, but just another piece.

After closing Chase’s door, Jameson grabbed a bowl, spoon, and box of cereal from the kitchen. He went out to the couch with his objects and sat down in the space next to Jackie. “Hey! What we watching?” It was striking to hear such joy after what Jameson just learned.

He poured himself a full bowl of dry cereal. Rice krispies. Not a bad choice. “Bake,” he signed plainly.

“You got it!” Jackie switched over to the show while Jameson started eating some cereal. His body had forgotten that it was hungry. The cereal didn’t seem to be helping. He kept eating. “Season?”

“1.” His brother started it. Jameson made himself smile at it. He didn’t feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so, we are nearing the end game. I wanted to ask you...  
> What were your favourite parts?  
> Who do you love to see interact with each other?  
> Is there anything you wish I had written more about?  
> And lastly, any guesses where this is going? There are four more chapters left for this novel. And I hope I have done this story justice. ~~And honestly, I do want to write a sequel, but trying to make a plot is killing me~~


	39. Pieces Fit Only to Shatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henrik needs to figure things out. Finally, get an answer to all this madness. Cause he doesn't want to admit Jackie is going insane without ruling everything else out first.

Henrik had been invited to watch TV by Jackie. A simple thing he could do for his brother. Problem was, he brain was too preoccupied to be content focusing on some show.

The rational thought, to try and write out everything so he could think through and see everything in front of him, arose. Unfortunately, Henrik instead decided to keep up the illusion of bonding through group watching. He’d tried to keep everything sorted in his brain. There were so many different accounts though.

For starters, Jackie insisted he didn’t have his powers, couldn’t feel them. Chase adamantly swore he did. And Henrik, by his own observations, was inclined to agree that Jackie at least still had super healing, in a sense. Though, it seemed to be greatly relient on his emotional state.

And then there was this “Cat magician” idea. According to Jackie, this was the person who attacked him and took his powers. He only tormented Jackie at night, or in his dreams, when no one was around. And, if they were to believe it, this foe was trying to kill all four of them. Chase added onto the villainous persona, saying Cat tried to kill him but stopped when Henrik was starting to wake up. Said he could vanish into thin air. And to further complicate things, Chase hypothesized that Jackie was in fact Cat. Saw his face and felt Jackie’s energy when Cat tried to kill him. Henrik hadn’t believed Cat was real. Had thought entertaining the notion fed into the paranoia. And that was the last thing anyone needed in this madness.

_ Alright though. Let's give them all a shot _ , his brain grumbled. Even though Henrik already knew what he believed, he had to at least go through it all to have logical evidence to support his hypothesis.

If Jackie’s version of Cat was correct, then there should have been attempts on their lives. If Henrik was a pessimist, he’d say there already had been. First time would have been when Chase went missing for three days. But if this Cat was as vicious and deadly as Jackie made him sound, Chase would have been dead. There was ample time and opportunity. Chase was just depressed and running, simple as that. No malicious outsider influence, as reprehensibly lovely as that may sound. Second time was early yesterday morning when Chase “saw Cat.” Dream or real, Chase thought he was going to be killed. But then Cat disappeared rather than finish his kill. It sounded so far-fetched that a killer wouldn’t finish his task for fear of being interrupted. Going by these, if Cat was real, it seemed to be going after Chase rather than Jackie or any other family member.

A third attempt could have been Jameson’s car crash, and well, that was an accident. Maybe on both party’s parts. Henrik only knew some vague details (no more than what Jameson spoke of freely). It sounded like he had moved forward at the wrong time, not checking the opposite traffic, and the car that hit them ran the light. Buying into a conspiracy that it was an intentional hit didn’t make total sense, because how could the driver know exactly when Jameson would be at that intersection, or that he would even be out driving in the first place? He could theorize that Emma was in on this scheme, but Jameson was the one that suggested they leave together. So either she was excellent at manipulating the situation to force them to leave, or she really was just a bystander in all this.

If Henrik took Jackie at his word, it seemed like circumstantial evidence at best. And at worst, he was inclined to believe Jackie was slowly losing his mind. Which wasn’t exactly an incomprehensible idea, considering his outburst yesterday. 

If Chase’s version was correct, it meant that Jackie or, according to Chase, “some doppelganger or evil twin” was coming after their family. And that he only attacked when they were alone.

To indulge that grim possibility, he needed suspects. First, there was Jameson’s colleague, the one Emma mistook Jackie for. Even if Jackie did have a lookalike, Jackie was also special. No one else in the city had powers, let alone powers that were akin to Jackie’s. His brother was, to their knowledge, alone in his electric spark or even possessing any magical power.

Second was that toss away theory, the evil twin. This morning, he’d fully remembered that Jackie even had a twin, Marvin. The only thing was, he’d died the day he was born. Henrik couldn’t imagine Jack lying about that. Not with how devastated he was afterwards. He supposed that maybe if Jack didn’t even know, if there was a baby switch, or a kidnapping, but now he was just getting into wild conspiracy theory again. He knew, better than anyone in this family, what it felt like to have your baby die, especially before they even got a chance to take their first breath. His dad didn’t fake that pain. Marvin had to be dead.

But that only left the unhinged Jackie theory from Chase. And while his sanity sure fit the profile, no way in hell Jackie would hurt then. He would get mad at them, he could yell to fill the whole house, maybe grab or pin them occasionally, but he never intentionally tried to hurt them. Even yesterday morning, Henrik knew Jackie wouldn’t punch him despite how antagonistic he was trying to be. That’s just not the type of guy Jackie was. To believe he was harboring unspoken hatred wasn’t hard, but his family’s safety was at the core of his being.

Sighing heavily, Henrik concluded that only two theories could work: Jackie was mentally ill from his trauma, or Jameson’s coworker somehow was playing a role in this scheme. Only one of them sounded sane.

Henrik sighed heavily. Even if he thought he knew, there were still a few answers to be found to undoubtedly simple questions. “Jameson? You got a couple minutes?” Tired, Henrik tried his last avenue before accepting reality as it was.

“Sssshhh!” Jackie called. Henrik rolled his eyes, but Jameson nodded.

Seemed he’d be having to sign this conversation. “Your coworker – looks like Jackie – what’s he like?”

“Marvin?” The hair on Henrik’s neck pricked up at the finger spelling. Marvin? His coworker’s name was Marvin? “He’s ...” Jameson scrunched his mustache, looking into the empty distance while rolling his hands around each other, like Jackie did when he was thinking. “ ... Suave. Charismatic. When he talks . . . ” But then Jameson stopped thinking. His eyes bounced wide open as his face grew long.

After a few seconds, Jameson stood up and went towards the hallway, motioning for Henrik to come. Unease and worry started slowly manifesting throughout his entire body as he followed.

Jameson led them into Henrik’s office and closed the door behind them. He took the paper and pen off Henrik’s desk and began frantically writing.

After a minute, “ _ I heard him. Before the car crash. I heard his voice, and then I went into this trance and I couldn’t control my body.  _

_ And I can’t remember my meetings with him. I feel like I have memories, but they’re all fuzzy and under a black haze. Like I’m there, but it’s not me controlling me. _

_ Henrik. What happened? What do I do?” _

His brother looked so small and afraid, standing close to Henrik, keeping his hands up, form tight.

But Henrik, for once, couldn’t offer safety and comfort. “Black haze?” Jameson nodded vehemently. Black haze. That’s what he’d said to Chase about his last surgery. Like he was there, but not really. And he tried remembering one last time. He was removing a piece of bone fragment. He’d scraped it against a vessel branching off the aorta. Felt the feedback of pressure against the instrument in his hand, but did it anyway. Then, when closing the vessel, made his stitches too close to the edge, knowing they’d tear. The notion that he should have gone to the ribs in the first place before the cardiologist even got there... That wasn’t a call he’d make in the first place. He was seeing through the black haze for the first time. There, but not controlling himself.

His hands started shaking, holding the piece of paper. Jameson grabbed his wrists, bringing him back to his first priority, his family’s safety. But right now, he was scared too.

“Jameson. How similar does Marvin look to Jackie?” Henrik dreaded the answer, but he  _ had _ to know.

Jameson took the pad back. He was fast and sloppy with his writing. “ _ Identical in all but hair and scars. Like twins. _ ”

No. Dear God no. 

Henrik gripped Jameson’s forearm and tore out of the office. He had them dart up the stairs and into Chase’s room. No knock. No warning. No one there. Henrik turned and uttered in a single breath, “We have to find Chase. Now.” Jameson took the rooms they’d passed as Henrik moved forward. Opening doors with no regard, terror growing with every empty room.

They met back at the top of the stairs, empty-handed. Teleportation. One of them had said teleportation. If that was real– fuck that– if he was abducted, there was no hope left. One last chance. “Jackie!” Henrik called, bounding down the stairs, his voice having a scary sense of urgency. A second pair of footsteps followed close behind.

“Yeah?” His brother looked lazily over the couch. “Where’s the fire?”

“Did you hear Chase come down?”

“Yeah, he went out for a run. Wanted to clear his head.”

Okay. They had time. Not much, but a small chance. “Get up. Now!” Henrik was already running to get his coat and shoes slid on.

“What’s wrong? He can’t go for a walk now?”

“No, jjggkfy– Marvin, him– Cat!” That got Jackie standing. But Henrik was already ready to go. “Jameson, you stay with Jackie. Don’t let him out of your sight!”

That was the last thing he got to say to his brothers before slamming the door and starting to run down the street. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be the last thing he said to them.


	40. Which Reality?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henrik has to find Chase. Convince him to come back home because Marvin is a danger to all of them and no one is safe alone. But it's much much much harder to try and convince Chase to believe him, let alone believe Cat isn't Jackie. And when they both try to tell the other two their correct (in their eyes) version who Cat is, well, it doesn't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: passive suicidal ideation

There was no sign of his brother. Henrik started running, going off of his memory and hope. Memory of Chase’s regular route. Hope he actually took it this time. And praying. Praying he wasn’t too late. That Chase wasn’t already gone. That Cat– Marvin hadn’t taken him or hurt him. His head was burning hot against the cold wind created by his movement. None of this was right.

Hastily rounding the corner of their street, his eyes scanned the entire route in front of him. There. Chase was up ahead. Henrik’s only thought was to push himself even harder to catch up. Get to his brother before he disappeared.

“Chase!” Chase turned to look back as Henrik was getting closer, but then he turned back around and sped up from a light jog to a full on run. Even though Henrik wasn’t a runner, he tried to accelerate fast enough to catch up to Chase. Legs on fire, but he was so close. No warnings until he was right on top of him. Until he could hold his baby brother.

Laying a firm hand on his shoulder, Henrik tried to match Chase’s pace, still secretly hoping his brother would listen. “Please, stop.” But, stubborn as ever, Chase ripped Henrik’s hands off of his shoulder and ran even further ahead. Twenty feet in front, and then Chase returned to his regular pace. Henrik sighed loudly. Fucking shit. No. He did not get to just run away this time.

Gritting his teeth, Henrik once again sprinted up, this time, glaring at Chase once he was at his side. As soon as Chase noticed, he glared right back at Henrik. “Why can’t you leave me alone!?” Chase shouted through staggered breaths.

Henrik tried to respond, words coming out dryly between heavy breaths. He was being as assertive as he could. “You’re not... safe... alone!”

“I’m not safe ... at home.” Henrik wanted to make Chase understand, but he was expending all his energy trying to keep up. So he just kept staring, eyes darting between Chase and the road in front of them so he wouldn’t trip and fall. It took maybe twenty seconds for Chase to fold. “Fine!” Chase gradually slowed down while Henrik nearly fell into a full on walk, bending over next to his now, thankfully, stationary brother.

Still panting, Henrik looked up at Chase, trying to get a hold of his breath to drop a bombshell. “It’s not. . . Jackie.”

Chase turned toward the sky a moment before coming back full force at Henrik. “Stop lying! You don’t know! You didn’t see him with electricity brimming from his hands, coming so close to frying my brain! The fire in his eyes, burning with hatred for me! I know what my brother looks like, what his powers feel like! Don’t try and gaslight me because you think Jackie is too ‘heroic’ to do something so dastardly! He’s human! And one thing can change someone’s entire life!” Chase walked a few steps away, hands up in the air, around his head, fidgeting and moving because Chase never stayed still, especially when upset.

“It’s, Marvin,” Henrik said in the smoothest voice he could muster, barely managing to hold his breaths now. “Jameson’s, co-worker.”

“You just don’t want to face the truth.” No Chase. You can’t face the real truth because it seems far too outlandish. Cause how could Jackie have a twin no one knew about. Correction, no one else remembered.

Henrik stood up fully, able to finally look his brother square in the eyes. “Believe Jameson then. He said they looked exactly identical.” And the one other thing. The scariest thing. “And he messes with memories. Jackie can’t do that, right?” Chase was still scowling at him. “Do you have any fuzzy, black hazes in your memory? . . . Is it possible you’ve been manipulated into forgetting key details over the past few days?” It was horrifying to learn that his hands actually did cause his patient to die. That he had no control over them. And he didn’t know what Jameson did, but it sounded like he’d had more encounters, more puppeteering. And if Chase had any of that... a man who had so much of his life changed without his consent... it could break him to realize that he’d been used again.

Chase’s hatred mellowed as he was lost in thought. But then it hardened as he came back to Henrik. “No, there aren’t. And stop trying to find a scapegoat. It’s okay if one of my brothers hates me. I’m used to it. ... And cause  _ you  _ won’t believe  _ me _ , now  _ I _ have to go back and protect Jameson.” He turned and started heading back, leaving this last tidbit, “I’m not letting him get hurt again.”

Henrik couldn’t believe his ears. I mean, didn’t Chase– he, he didn’t  _ hate _ Chase. Tough on him, but not hate. Did– he really believed that? Henrik ran to catch up and then matched Chase’s walking pace. His brother was looking straight ahead. Didn’t even acknowledge when Henrik caught up to him. “I don’t hate you, Chase. You know that, right?” Chase took a deep breath in, tilted his head towards the sky, and breathed out. Then eyes back down to the path ahead.

“Words can lie,” he stated plainly, putting his hands inside his pants pockets. His arm had goosebumps on it. Just like him to go out in autumn with a t-shirt on. With a second of hesitation, Henrik removed his coat and placed it around Chase’s shoulders. He immediately felt his hair stand on end, even beneath his long sleeves, but the quickened beat of his heart would keep him a bit warmer for the walk back. Chase grunted, but then he pulled the coat a little closer around him.

Even for Chase, something was very off. This anger was better than his silent episodes, but it felt the exact same. Something in him cracked yesterday. Henrik didn’t know all of Chase’s triggers. Even with deductions and assumptions about what to avoid, it would have been better if Chase would tell him flat out what not to do or talk about. Maybe now was the time to learn. “Why’d you decide to go for a walk?” Chase huffed, his stomach growling.

“Aren’t you the one who said going out was good for me?” he gritted in response. That was a lame excuse.

The silence marinated as Henrik tried to figure out how to trick Chase into actually talking. “I’d’ve rather you had breakfast first.”

And they walked in silence for a bit. How the hell was he gonna explain to everyone who Marvin actually was? How was Marvin even alive? Jack didn’t hide him. He grieved him. Him and... whoever Jackie and Marvin’s mom was. Did she?– didn’t matter. How didn’t matter. Why didn’t matter. What to do now mattered. Tell them it’s just Jameson’s co-worker. Cause that’s what kept their enemy tangible. He didn’t need to be written off as crazy saying Jackie had a dead-but-actually-not-dead twin.

Chase sighed loudly, drawing Henrik’s attention away from his spinning thoughts. “I don’t want to be here right now.”

Henrik was hoping Chase meant that lightly. But... “Chase, if you’re suicidal–”

“Jeezus–” Chase stopped to turn and lamily swat at Henrik, “I’m not  _ trying _ to kill myself again!” He grabbed his head a minute before walking off again, Henrik following alongside. Another hefty lamenting exhale. “... When Phillip...” Henrik’s heart dropped at the name of his child. Years hadn’t made the pain easier. “Didn’t you just... not want to be? ... Can you understand just, not wanting to exist and live with a tremendous amount of pain, but just being paralyzed by it?” Chase was starting to cry silently.

Living with tremendous grief, the aching hole it left. Missing the time he had with Phillip, but more so missing the future he couldn’t have... Henrik understood being crushed by grief. Maybe Chase felt something similar when Stacey kidnapped their kids and that PI couldn’t find anything. But at least he still could hope and dream about being reunited with them.

Henrik didn’t know what kind of pain Chase was living with. What caused it. Or if it really was as bad as he claimed it was. “I know how pain can make you want to be numb... But you are supposed to run  _ towards _ people, not away from them.” It was the first time Henrik ever really talked with Chase about this stuff. Suicidal ideation, even passive ideation, wasn’t something he wanted to entertain. He could just hope he could sway those feelings of hopelessness into a better... but like Chase would talk about his feelings with a psychiatrist. Couldn’t even talk to his own brothers about it. How would he trust an outside professional?

Now it was Henrik’s turn to sigh and stare up at the sky.  _ Don’t go spinning your head off _ . Chase was still here, alive. Jameson and Jackie were home, safe. The family he grew up with was going to live, today.

And suddenly, Chase took off running. Henrik bent his head down, shaking it in disappointment. Like Chase wouldn’t go running off when things got too real again. Looking ahead though, that wasn’t the reason. And Henrik’s heart sank even further.

Like Chase, he ran over to his two brothers, loudly berating them, “What the hell are you doing out here?” But before anyone could answer, or even comprehend him, Chase ripped Jameson away from Jackie, causing the hero to stumble a bit before Henrik stepped in to support him. 

“Jameson got worried about you–”

“The only thing he should be worried about is  _ you _ !” Chase was trying to keep his body between Jackie and Jameson.

“What??”

“No time. Just, inside, where it’s warmer.” Henrik tried taking a step and bringing Jackie with him, but the two wouldn’t shut up.

“No, Jackie is Cat!”

“That’s ridiculous!”

Jameson was swatting at Chase’s arm, trying to get in front of him, but Chase was stubborn enough and kept adjusting to keep Jameson back.

“I’m Not Cat!!”

“It’s the only explanation there is!!”

Jameson started pointing wildly at Henrik, at least drawing Jackie’s attention for a sec.

“I tried explaining that Cat’s Marvin, but he won’t listen.”

“Who’s Marvin?!”

“Stop lying!”

Jameson spazzed his hands about. Seems he didn’t think anyone would read his signs. 

“I don’t  _ Care  _ that you hate me Jackie! Just stop trying to kill me!”

“I’m not trying to Kill you!”

Jameson was getting more frantic, now trying to wrap his arm around Chase. Trying desperately to turn him so Chase could look at him.

“Jameson, stop! I’m trying to protect you!” He countered Jameson’s protests more and more. But then he elbowed Jameson in the side. Correction, in his stitches. And Jameson stepped back, kneeling down almost immediately as his hands gripped his incision site. Henrik had no doubt, if Jameson could scream in pain, he would be alarming half the neighbors right now.

There was no warning. But suddenly, Henrik’s hands were empty, and Chase wasn’t standing besides Jameson either. Chase was on the ground, and Jackie was standing atop him, slowly lowering his left fist that was glowing green, little bits of green electricity sparking around it.

Someone spat (presumably Chase by how stiff Jackie was). “At least we’re being honest now.” Henrik saw Jackie’s power shift from a green aura to blue and turn the slightest shade of indigo as his fists grew tighter and tighter. And after holding, burning, for a couple seconds, they faded back to their normally green then away entirely as he unclenched his hands.

“You’re sick Chase,” Jackie gritted before turning and bending to help Jameson.

The hairs on Henrik’s neck stood up again. The air around him warmed and started to prick, like electricity. And the wind changed patterns, going from a low breeze to whipping up and spinning around. Henrik looked at Chase, just now starting to get up, then at Jameson and Jackie. But Jackie wasn’t paying attention to Jameson anymore; he was rising, looking the other way. Henrik traced his eye line and saw what could only be called a miracle. Wind swirling about in a tight circle, sparks flying off. The light from the sun became dulled as clouds moved in above their heads. And above all this chaos came a single voice.

“That’s not how it’s supposed to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eeee!!!! Marvin out in the open!!! I really love what I have in store for yall.


	41. Sin of Wrath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final scene, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: fighting, blood, depictions of violence

There he was, out in the open. Cat’s costume was charred across the chest and a black cat mask shrouded the top of his face now. Power flamed and flared and electrified around Cat, changing from a familiar green glow almost like Jackie’s power to a deep, dark purple that was on the verge of becoming a void. Rage burned in his eyes, and it felt like he was trying to pierce the hero with his gaze alone.

Jackie clenched both his fists tight until he could feel himself bleed. That pain was nothing compared to what he was planning to inflict upon Cat though. And for once, it was a good thing his hands couldn’t fully feel right now. “Leave. If you know what’s good for you.” Jackie took a step forward, but his opponent moved twice as fast, and not towards him.

Cat had grabbed Chase and was using him as a human shield, resting his head on Chase’s shoulders. Chase wriggled and squirmed, but it seemed that his body was rigid and tense. “You say he’s sick in the head.” A sly smile crept on his face amid his words. Jackie started walking forward, each step somehow growing heavier the closer he got. Cat raised his hand, perverting his electric power into a dark lightning. Chase was trying to move away to no avail, silently screaming as he could only wait. Cat’s hand drew nearer to his brother’s head, a twisted smile growing as Chase squirmed. “You should have...” There was contact. Chase’s eyes squeezed shut, his mouth was fully agape. Worse than the piercing shriek from his brother was the creeping of black veins across his face. “Shocked some sense into him.” Jackie was finally close enough to grab Chase away. It felt like he was trying to pull two pieces of welded metal apart. He could feel the electricity teeming through Chase, none of it flowing into him though. It was more voltage than anything he’d ever felt. He feared that Chase was only seconds away from permanent brain damage. He had to break them apart.

Then suddenly, Chase was free and fell onto Jackie. And Jackie had never been happier to hold his brother close to his chest. But Cat wasn’t behind him anymore. All the magic seemed to leave Chase, and Jackie now sensed it behind the two of them. He turned, trying to keep Chase close.

Henrik was down on the ground and Jameson wasn’t. Instead, Jamie, still clutching at his wound, was hovering beside his foe. Jamie’s eyes were frantic, darting between Jackie and Cat. It looked like he was panting and shaking ever so slightly. As soon as Jackie was able to process his brothers, Cat firmly grabbed both of Jameson’s hands and effortlessly pried each digit away from the wound. Then he moved in even closer to Jamie, pressed himself right up against the lad’s back. Cat laid his left hand atop Jameson’s wound. Jackie tried to move, letting Chase fall by the wayside, but he was still too slow. Cat stabbed Jameson with the end of his claws, quickly ripping them upward and re-opening the wound. It took only a few seconds for the entire area to redden as blood started pouring out. Jameson tilted his head back and gasped before his entire body went limp, still held in a levitation state. And after being still for a hair of a second, Cat’s spell ceased, leaving Jamie to collapse onto the ground. “This all could have gone so much easier.”

Jackie bent down to try and pick up Jameson. There was a rise and fall. He was still there. But in this game of cat and mouse, Jackie knew he couldn’t take the moment. Gently laying Jameson down, he turned to see Cat standing up, one arm wrapped around Henrik’s body and blood-claden nails laying on Henrik’s neck. 

“Stop!” Jackie stumbled, but managed to stand up despite his body’s efforts. “This is between you and me. It doesn’t involve them!”

“Ha!” Cat scoffed, pressing tighter into Henrik. “It may have started that way. But I can’t just let them go. Because you made the _mistake_ of loving them! Take Henrik for example.” He pressed down on Henrik’s neck, one nail puncturing skin, causing a tiny stream of blood to start trickling down. Jackie could feel fire burning inside his veins. “Older, sagely, Henrik,” he purred. It was almost like he was, endearing. But then he went further, stroking Henrik’s hair like he was simply a little pet of his. “You love him the most right?” And the two brothers could only stand there as Cat flaunted how much he was in control. Then he started laughing slyly, “But he actually resents you for having the _audacity_ to embrace your powers! To try and save others. Ha!” Jackie’s fists were clenched far too tight, his eyes lasered in on Cat, searching for a weak point, his body screaming to move, to spring into action and punish this vile man. But then Henrik made the first move. Gripped the hand pressed against his neck, bent it backwards, and ducked out of the way as Cat’s pain just managed to be vocalized. Jackie smirked before he darted forward at his perfectly exposed target.

Cat was quick to move back, narrowly dodging Jackie’s right hook to his stomach. A quick swing higher up with his left just glanced Cat’s arm as he’d moved to defend himself. But Jackie kept pursuing, kept punching, trying to land a blow somewhere that would hurt. “That’s not even all!” Cat cackled, bouncing back like a cat light on its feet. But that only made the electricity in Jackie dial up as he started moving faster, now landing hard hits on the hands that blocked every single one of blows. “Jameson? He’s been terrified ever since you started using your powers.” He tried a quick leg sweep, getting low, swinging with his boot, and back up in less than a second. But that damn Cat had jumped and was floating in the air now. Jackie scowled, baring his teeth and looking up, regrettably taking a moment to try and figure out how to take down a man who could fly. His foe took the advantage to taunt further. “Chase? So envious that his younger brother has so much more capability than he does. And that’s just the surface level!”

That was it. Jackie bent his legs slightly and launched himself up high, finally laying a hand on Cat. Jackie kneed him in the stomach before turning them so that now Cat was between Jackie and the ground. He sent them crashing down, Cat underneath his knee and arms pinned to his side. Jackie’s entire body was teeming with electricity. And at this level, it was deadly. Good. Jackie slowly started raising a fist, his body growing stiff from all the power he was wielding. But this needed to be done.

Cat spat to the side, and decided to open his mouth again. “You gonna kill me? You think they’ll love you if you betray your morals like that? Hero?” He smirked at his own line, eyes taunting Jackie beneath that black mask. And Jackie only hardened. “No one truly loves you for what you are.”

“That’s a lie!” Jackie finally burst, striking towards Cat’s despicable face. It was blindingly bright for a second. But then Jackie saw the blue electricity sparking all around. And the crater he’d made in the road. Spinning around, there was Cat, floating just above the ground, only a few mere scrapes on his cheek and burns on his costume. It was sickening to see him smiling, red staining his teeth and lips. 

“No. They’ve treated you differently since you started using your powers.” Still grounded, Jackie commanded his powers, his blue electricity an extension of himself. He threw a punch, and the lightning extended from his fingertips to shoot at his foe’s heart. But the villain just shot up his own hand, the electricity moving up his arm and then through his body, giving him an electric glow. No. He turned it harmless. “They can’t accept it.”

Jackie stood up and got ready to fight again. There was the low roll of thunder above them. He heard his name called, but couldn’t take his eyes off Cat.

“I’m not surprised either.” Jackie felt electricity beyond his own body. He’d command it, even if it killed him, to get his point across that it wasn’t okay to mess with his family. “After all, you’re the one who showed me family was just a cruel, cruel notion.” Lightning cracked from the sky, coming down right at Cat, but he’d moved at the last second, power destroying asphalt again. “A stupid pack you’re forced into.” Another bolt, and another swift flight maneuver away. “It’s naive to think there’s anything special about sharing blood with someone.” Jackie could feel all the sparks in his body burning him, manifesting on his skin. He shot them all at Cat. But looking up, his enemy was shrouded in a wall of blue flames, and nothing seemed to be penetrating it. Then something came at him, knocking him down to the road. He managed to prop himself up on his elbows, desperately trying to keep his eyes focused on the immediate danger. Cat shifted closer, his body teeming with small blue flames, eyes burning with a blue fury. “Trying to love your family is a weakness.”

“You’re wrong!” Thunder added emphasis to Jackie’s cries. “My family gives me strength!” He added his own emphasis, slowly and surely getting back up, even with his broken leg now starting to burn inside. “My family loves me despite my flaws.” He took a sure stance. “Forgives me when I make a mistake.” Tiredly brought his fists up. “And family,” he centered himself, “is there for each other,” started letting his power course through him, to every inch of his being, “no matter what.” Green electricity jumped about on his arms and engulfed his bloody, broken hands. “I don’t know who the hell you are,” he breathed out, trying to keep control of himself, “but I will not let you take my family from me!”

“No!” Flames shot towards him. Jackie crossed his arms in front and bent his head down. He felt the fire lick around the edges of his being, but nothing seemed to singe him. Once the flames died down, he looked up to see his electricity forming a shield from his arms. Cat, on the other side of it, had moved closer, flames growing from dark blue wisps to purple roars. “You took away my only connection to our family!” Another fireball. Jackie tried to brace his shield, but the fire blasted a hole through. Embers burned themselves into his arm, making him stagger back and drop his shield. “It’s only right,” another fireball burst took out his other arm, “I do the same,” a third shot to his chest, and he fell against the road, “to you!”

Jackie felt dazed. He could hear familiar voices blurred in his ears, far away, shouting. He tried to open his eyes to look. The sky was grey and clouded above, and his head was heavy. Rolling his neck, he strained to turn and see where he thought he’d left his brothers. Everything was blurry. He blinked a few times to clear them. Shapes slowly came into more focus on the three of them. Someone ran closer. Jackie tried to say no, but his voice wouldn’t start, only barely managing to move his lips. Purple fire came for them, knocking them to the ground too. Another brother raced over to him, but now Jackie heard steps and fire crackling.

With great effort, he lifted his head to see Cat with his feet back on the ground, walking towards him. He tried to move his arms, focus on his power, concentrate it somewhere. “If you had just let me,” Cat shot a fireball at Jackie’s left hand, pinning it to the road. “I could have escaped that hell and stayed with you.” A second flaming restraint on his right hand. Jackie tried to raise his arms, only to be met with a searing pain that he thought might tear his wrist off entirely if he continued to struggle. “But you said I wasn’t real!” Left leg pinned. “Severed our link!” Right leg pinned. “Let me fade into forgotten memories!!” A final fire ball on his neck. Everything was so hot, and his head was getting so fuzzy. He strained to look at this evil with his eyes, careful to not move anything, lest he hurt himself any further. “You left me dead in the eyes of this family.” Cat put his hands together and drew them apart, creating a sword with his flames. “And I can never forgive you for that!” He floated the sword overtop of Jackie’s chest. 

Jackie felt his heart beating faster and heard the blood rushing in his ears. He couldn’t manifest his powers without his hands. He’d just gotten them back too. And his breaths were getting faster. _I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you all._ Jackie looked up at the sky above him. Low thunder rumbled. It couldn’t save him this time. _I’m sorry_.

“Marvin!!”


	42. What Are You Willing to Sacrifice?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final scene, part 2

“Marvin!!” Jackie tried his best to look up. Past the sword hovering above his chest, there was Henrik, standing only a few feet away. Cat was looking at him too. No. “You want to blame someone for forgetting you? Blame me! I’m the only one old enough to remember you. Remember you were Jackie’s twin. And when Jack replaced you, I said nothing. I made sure no one in this family ever knew about you!”

“No! Jackie knew!” The tip of the flaming sword pressed down, resting dangerously on Jackie’s chest. “We were eight! We were friends, and then he tossed me aside like I meant nothing! Claiming I wasn’t even real!”

“Blame me for that too, Marvin! I convinced him you were imaginary. I told him he was too old for imaginary friends. I made him abandon you. All the reasons you’re forgotten in our family? Blame me.”

Jackie started to feel the air around him cool. Cat raised the sword off of Jackie’s chest. “No! Stop!!” The restraints were loosening, but Jackie couldn’t move free. The sword hovered far above him, now pointed in Henrik’s direction. “Henrik!!” Cat snapped his fingers, and the sword went flying. The restraints broke, giving Jackie only enough time to sit up and watch his brother be skewered.

But that wasn’t the case. The sword broke apart at the last moment, engulfing Henrik in a tight fiery circle, blue flames rising from the ground up to his shoulders. Jackie sighed in relief before his lungs started having a hard time breathing, heaving against the burn on his chest.

Cat took a step forward and Jackie wanted to stop this. But Chase was already on it, running into the fray. Closing fast, and it looked like he wouldn’t stop. Nothing but anger on his face. He was gonna get himself killed with a dumb plan like that.

“Chase stop!” Henrik yelled, having barely enough time to turn back and see their brother halt in his tracks five feet back. “Let me take responsibility for this!” Chase’s face hardened even more. “You’re gonna have to be the big brother now.”

“No!” his voice cracked. “I won’t let you!” Cat took another step forward. Jackie moved to get on his knees, despite the pain throughout his body.

“You’re strong Chase. Stronger than I give you credit for. You can do this. Now, go tend to your brother.”

“But-” Jackie was half-way up. His right foot propped up and pushing against the broken road, almost ready to bear the brunt of all his force.

“I will not have you lose two people in one day!”

There were two chances. And only one that he thought would work. He electrified his entire body, and commanded his leg to push off, flying towards Henrik. He was ready for burns, for pain, one arm electrified in front to break the flames and take the brunt of the damage, the other arm ready to scoop up Henrik at a moment’s notice. But, he crashed into an impenetrable wall of flame and fell to the ground. He tried to put a hand on the flames, the heat the only thing registering in his still broken hands. Tried to use his electricity to somehow bring down that invisible wall Cat had created, but nothing. Inches away, and he couldn’t save Henrik.

He looked up at Cat. “ I’ll kill you for this!!” His voice was raspy, unable to stop the rawness in his throat as it was sinking in what would happen.

“Jackie stop!” Jackie couldn’t help but look at his oldest brother, tears in his eyes that he tried to wipe away. Remember his face. Strong. Not afraid. Damn him for this. “You have to protect your other brothers now.” Tears were stinging. “I love you.” He couldn’t accept this. He wouldn’t accept this.

“Henrik, you can’– ” And suddenly, he was tossed away, hitting someone else and causing them to both fall to the ground. He was too far away from Henrik. Jackie looked back, now atop of Chase and beside Jameson.

“Enough with all this yammering!” Cat stepped to the edge of his flaming circle, looking Henrik square in the eyes. Jackie tried to climb off of Chase, but barely managed to just roll onto the pavement. He could just barely feel his arms, and his legs had already been through enough. He couldn’t get over there in time. Could only watch, tears constantly flowing, and listen for Henrik’s final words.

“One last thing, Marvin. Please.” There was only the crackle of the dark indigo flames in response. “I’m sorry I never got to know you as my brother, Marvin.” Jackie only heard Chase’s sobbing beside him and a darker crackle. Then Marvin started to raise his arms up to the sides and floated higher, the flames rising farther past Henrik’s face until you couldn’t see anything but the shadow of a figure inside that fiery cage. Marvin started to slowly bring his hands together, the circle seemingly getting smaller. But there was no sound from Henrik. The inferno had to be touching him, but nothing. Goddammit! Jackie bent his head down, unable to watch his stubborn, stoic, tough as nails brother be burned to a crisp.

After a few more seconds, there was finally a scream. And Jackie instinctively looked up again. The flames around Henrik were dying down and the circle expanding. And he was still there. Henrik bent forward, but he was still standing. There was another tumultuous cry of agony. Henrik’s head moved first, and Jackie’s eyes followed. Up in the sky, Marvin was writhing, hands gripping his head, eyes squeezed shut.

“NoO!” He twisted, fire sparking wildly around and on him, green and blue and purple, and fizzling out almost immediately. “I, won’t, Let. YoU!!!” A black smoke started to surround him and then fully engulfed him. There was a final scream, one from with the depths of a soul, before Marvin fell out of the smoke and landed on the ground.

Henrik ran over to the masked fiend. “Chase, get me up!” Jackie called back. It wasn’t safe for Henrik to be that close. He could have feigned it to gain sympathy, gain  _ him _ . And Chase, through struggle, got Jackie to his feet. “Stay here, watch after Jameson.” Jackie didn’t even wait for a nod or assurance before dashing off to Henrik despite the aching cries of his body.

Black smoke was still lingering on Marvin’s body. He couldn’t lose Henrik. But when he got there, Henrik was already leaning over Marvin, far too close for Jackie’s comfort. 

“No, stop!” Jackie tried to grab Henrik, his arms still limp. He let his electric power flow through his arm, directing it to move his limb forward and drag Henrik back. He couldn’t feel anything, but his limb did it as it was told and forcibly brought Henrik out of danger.

He was instantly met with a slap on the wrist from his big brother. The flames had left small ashes and singe marks everywhere on him including on his face, but he seemed generally fine. “What are you doing?!” Henrik scolded him. Wasn’t it a fantastic thing, to still be able to be yelled at by Henrik?

“I’m not letting you get close to him. I won’t lose you Henrik!” There was nothing heroic in Jackie’s voice. More like a scared child. But he could be scared and still protect the ones he loved, even if they couldn’t see the danger.

“You won’t! He’s knocked out.” But that was only a temporary state. It was a fluke that he was out cold right now. Jackie couldn’t beat him one on one. And Marvin had shown he was more than willing to maim his family.

“I can’t let him take my family from me Henrik!” Jackie started to will his arm forward through his power, letting his electricity manifest more and more until he was sparking outside his body. He didn’t know how much electricity it would take to kill a person. And his own body was fighting him. His conscience cried out against this. He would be no better than Marvin if he did that. But Jackie laid his hand on Marvin’s chest. He felt a rise and fall and shake of shallow breaths. He could feel Marvin’s heart beat. This was so hard to do.

Henrik grabbed Jackie’s arm and yanked it off of Marvin. “If you kill him, you will lose part of your family.” It stabbed him to hear that. But, he’d expected nothing less. Disownment was fine. He’d mar his own soul to keep his family safe.

“As long as you’re alive, that’s all that matters.” More tears fell as he broke his arm free.

“Not me!” Henrik was fast, faster than Jackie this time. And he grabbed the mask from Marvin and ripped it off of him. And Jackie couldn’t believe it. It was his face, but it wasn’t him. “Him!”

Jackie couldn’t say anything. What the fuck was happening?! How could– It had to be an illusion. But– how? Why? How? No. Cat couldn’t– Marvin couldn’t–

Marvin started coughing, blood sputtering out onto his cheeks. “I’m . . . Sorry,” his voice was scraggly and ashy.

“Sorry??!?” Without thought, Jackie pulled his fist back. Pain was coursing along with his power, but that didn’t matter. This Fucker, this absolute monster–

And there was a strong hand on top of his fist. Jackie looked back and saw Henrik lowering it down to the ground. He kept glaring at Jackie as he spoke, “Sorry for what?” he derided. At least it had the same bite to it as when he talked to any of them. Could make his voice so commanding you had no choice but to answer.

But instead of an answer, there were pounding footsteps. Jackie turned to see Chase coming up on them. “What are you doing here??!” Henrik fumed at him. “You’re supposed to look after Jameson and make sure he doesn’t bleed out!” Jackie was chilled down to the bone. Jameson. 

“He wanted to know what was going on,” Chase defended. But looking past him, there was no Jameson behind him.

“Chase? Where’s. Jameson.” Jackie couldn’t even pinpoint what he was feeling. He could just barely manage to say coherence.

“He took him,” his enemy spoke, coupled with another cacophony of coughs.

Jackie glared at this home-wrecker. “Who!!” he demanded.

“Said I was worthless when I wouldn’t kill him. Said he needed a more obedient puppet.” But that wasn’t good enough. He punched, electricity driving it, but sheer speed and force knocking Cat out. Still finding ways to mess with his family. And his head was spinning again while trying to fit together everything.

“Jackie!” Henrik yelled. But Jackie didn’t get to hear the rest of his lecture. Could feel himself collapse onto the ground. His body wouldn’t move. It was so tired. And his mind was overloading, static prickling at it. None of this was good. None of it was right. He thought he was saving them all. But instead, one brother was traded for another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it’s been a hell of a journey writing this novel.  
> I wanted to first thank each and every reader who kept coming back, being patient with the updates, and for reading to this end.  
> Now, as you may have already guessed (or known), I’m not just gonna leave it here. I am planning on writing a sequel. In fact, I already have the first few chapters drafted. However, I cannot promise that I will start releasing it anytime soon. I have been exhausted for the past month and a half and have had trouble finding motivation to write (yes, even through drafting 4 chapters). So, just know I am trying to outline and have a plan, but I don’t want to release what I have and then not have an update for weeks on end.  
> But, aside from sequel drafting, I want to do a couple other things.  
> 1\. I am trying to go and read through this entire thing and will be making edits (either to improve flow, or add more nuanced plot points, or just have things be consistent and in-character since I didn’t discover each of their distinct personalities until probably in the 20-ish chapter range). I will be putting in the chapter notes what I changed (either content or just “improved flow”).  
> 2\. I have a couple of Lost Chapter ideas that I may decide to write. But, these also depend on my ability to get myself writing again.  
> 3\. I have a tumblr (well, 2. A main and then my creations side blog as a kind of content archive)! And for a while, I was posting sequel ideas on there. Once I release the finale on tumblr, I’m gonna reblog all sequel planning so it’s in one place. It’s @sapphirerubycreates and the tag is #rubywritessequel. Give it about a week from now though before you go checking though, if you want to go checking. 
> 
> But yeah, I think that about covers it. Thank you again for taking the time to read all of this. I hope it brought you at least some moments of joy through all the angst and moments of tenderness and fluff.


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